


The Gift of Ruins

by PhoJoy



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: (In the form of child punishment), AU, Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Baby Dick Grayson, Blood, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Child Abuse, Childbirth, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Injury, Mental Health Issues, Mild Gore, Platonic Cuddling, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Worth Issues, Sibling Rivalry, Spanking, Vomiting, no beta we die like robins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:48:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26167432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoJoy/pseuds/PhoJoy
Summary: Elena looked up and smiled at him, she picked up a walkie-talkie. “Code 402, we’re bringing the visitor in, don’t be alarmed.” She lifted her finger from the button and turned to him. She stared at him with a steadying and stern stare “Are you ready for this change? It’s a big responsibility.”This made Bruce falter, there was a part of him that was unsure about the new load of responsibility. He was too used to the playboy life, hanging around girls and drinking. He was overcome with the workload and responsibility Wayne Enterprises came with. But, he had a hole in his heart and he knew that the only way to fix it was to…He looked up to Elena and gave her a reassuring smile “I intend on taking that responsibility.”In other words, in a no capes dimesion, Bruce Wayne adopts his children from a young age. (I just want dad Bruce moments and baby Bat family moments, is that too much to ask for DC?)
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Everyone
Comments: 34
Kudos: 117





	1. Baby Feet

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to make this clear:  
> Adoption is never this easy. It can take MONTHS for you to adopt a child, I simplified the adoption process for the sake of the plot!
> 
> Also I researched club foot to the best of my abilities, I'm so sorry if this isn't accurate at all. Enjoy!

Chapter One:

Bruce held on tight to the sides of the pickup truck as it zipped dangerously close to the edge of a narrow cliff. Loose pebbles flew off the side of the mountain and puffs of dirt sprayed past the truck, leaving a brown fog trail behind them.  
  
Bruce felt the truck lurch and he held even tighter onto the side of the truck. He prayed that if he ended up flying out of the back of the truck, that his death would be as fast and quick as he was during his first night with Selina.  
  
He scrunched his eyes close as he felt the truck jump and jolt around. A sudden, pinturn knocked Bruce into the other side of the back of the truck, knocking the breath out of Bruce’s lungs.  
  
His eyes rolled up to the sky as he slumped down onto the floor, just letting the truck toss him around like a die. This is worth it, this is worth it he chanted again and again like a mantra.  
  
The truck eventually slowed to a stop and Bruce jumped out and threw up into a huckleberry bush. His head spun and his gut kept clenching, all thanks to that dizzying truck that had decided to take him on a spin, without a seatbelt, harness or a ceiling.  
  
“Ahem.” Bruce whirled around quickly wiping his mouth against his sleeve and forced a smile at the petite lady awaiting him a couple yards down. He popped a mint into his mouth (cause he’s not a nasty boy) and held his hand out to shake the woman’s hand.  
  
“Bruce Wayne.”  
  
“Elena Heart.”  
  
The lady forced a smile and took his hand before hastily shaking it and wiping it on her handkerchief. She then relaxed her smile to a more natural one “Apologies, I’ve always been a germaphobe. That’s why I’m part of management rather than child duty.”  
  
“Of course, I understand,” Bruce replied smiling briefly. He looked up to the small, rundown building that they were about to enter and his heart clenched with passion and grief.  
“Are you ready?” Elena asked him, pushing her chestnut bun up and clicked her pen into her clipboard. She readjusted her jacket and wrapped her arms around herself. Bruce gazed at the building again, lost in thought.  
  
“I don’t mean to rush you, but even if it’s summer in Gotham, it’s only 50 degrees Fahrenheit up here in the Glaciers.” Bruce’s attention snapped back to her and he curtly nodded.   
“Let’s go.”  
  
Elena breezily walked towards the building, her high heels clicking in tempo across the parking lot. Bruce hugged his coat even closer to his body and shuddered. He liked the cold, however, if it was cold and dry up here all year round and he had no cares in the world, he would move to Montana and build a mansion towering over a cliff. He would go skiing everyday and eat huckleberry ice cream from the local ice cream shop nearby.  
  
Elena briskly brought out her keychain and picked through the bundle of keys she held in her hand until she found a bright gold, oddly shaped key. She unlocked the door and motioned Bruce inside.  
  
Despite the shaggy, desolate exterior of the building, the inside was nice and cozy. Bruce was surprised by the warmth and the glowing lights that filled the room. He immediately felt the need to take off his jacket and Elena followed his suite. She motioned to a visitor’s cubby that was clearly designed to match the child-friendly room that they were in.  
  
  
Bruce looked around the room, taking the atmosphere in. There were little pennants hanging from the reception desk and the ceiling with drawings of little baby faces and stars, all garishly colorful but nostalgic at the same time. There was a huge teddy bear lying in the corner of the room and a few child walkers scattered around. The air smelled of playdoh and mac ‘n cheese.  
  
Elena began talking to the woman up front and began signing paperwork. Bruce watched with little interest but instead turned around looking at the walls. The walls were littered with art kids had clearly drawn or painted. None with great expertise of course, but all hung proudly for all the visitors to see. A small bulletin board was nailed behind the receptionist desk with smiling photos of employees, volunteers and children ranging from teenagers to babies.  
  
Bruce smiled softly to himself, although this orphanage wasn’t properly funded, they treated their kids well. He hoped he could say the same for many of the other orphanages in other parts of the country, he rolled his eyes at himself.  
  
“Mr.Wayne, you must put this sticker on,” Elena called out to him. She held out a bright orange sticker badge that said: “Central Heart’s Childcare Visitor: Bruce Wayne” and had a smiling teddy bear drawn next to the sticker. His name was carefully printed in a graceful script which was so unlike his own scrawly handwriting.  
  
“Follow me.” She opened the door opposite of the front door down a large hallway that looked very much like a hospital bay with the marble tiled floors and the plain green walls. There was still artwork on the walls but the hallway itself was less furnished than the lobby. All the doors in the hallway were wide opened, allowing Bruce to peek into each room.  
He caught glimpses of the actual medbay, the cafeteria, a tutoring room and seemingly random rooms with only chairs and tables filling them. Bruce had constantly kept turning his head so much to the point where he felt like he was having an acute case of whiplash.  
  
The never ending hallway eventually opened up to a common area, which looked like a large playroom. There were Legos neatly placed on a bookshelf, just out of reach from a toddler’s reach and games with small pieces on the very top. However, the huge trucks and cars laid on the bottom shelves. The room was decorated with colorful Orbeez spilled across the floor, huge princess castles and teepees as well as even more pennants and artwork.  
  
Elena muttered to herself and sighed. She got onto her knees and began scooping up the Orbeez. Bruce got down and began helping her scoop up the squishy little balls.  
“I’m sorry, we have to clean these up before the kids wake up. Who knows who might be the next child to end up with colorful bits in their diapers?” Bruce smiled to himself and cheerfully hummed to keep the silence less heavy.  
  
After they finished cleaning, Elena began to ask Bruce some basic questions about a child he would be looking for.  
“Is there a specific gender you prefer to adopt or if not, we can start with the specific type of age.” Elena brought her pen out and clicked it, preparing to jot down some notes.  
  
Bruce began rubbing the back of his head bashfully “I’m actually thinking of adopting a boy, I’m not very well versed in how to care for a female so I don’t really want to mess anything up until I think I’ve had enough experience parenting.”  
  
Elena nodded her head and began to furiously scribble some notes. “Understandable, is there a specified age you are looking for?”  
  
Bruce licked his lips nervously “I’m thinking about the stage between infancy and toddlerhood, I’ve babysitted many of my cousins and friends’ children when they were around that age. I think this would be a way of helping me understand how children grow in case I want to adopt an older child in the future.”  
  
Elena nodded her head once more, approvingly. “You should definitely look into adopting an older child when you become more experienced, the older one becomes, the harder it is to become adopted. It would be great if you could accept one of them into your home, Mr.Wayne.”  
  
Of course Bruce knew this, he had originally felt guilty about not adopting an older boy, then realized that adopting a teenager without knowing how to care for one would probably turnout disastrous.  
  
“Alright, we have three infants and four toddlers that match your description. We could take you to their rooms right now, but they’re still sleeping. You wouldn’t mind it if you explore a while for 20 minutes?”  
  
Bruce graciously nodded and smiled at her. “Of course I wouldn’t.”

/

Twenty minutes felt more dragged than ever before. Bruce was quick in step and jumpy with adrenaline, excitement and nervousness, causing him to bounce from place to place. The moment the twenty minutes were up he rushed back into the common room to meet the children.  
  
Elena looked up and smiled at him, she picked up a walkie-talkie. “Code 402, we’re bringing the visitor in, don’t be alarmed.” She lifted her finger from the button and turned to him. She stared at him with a steadying and stern stare “Are you ready for this change? It’s a big responsibility.”  
  
This made Bruce falter, there was a part of him that was unsure about the new load of responsibility. He was too used to the playboy life, hanging around girls and drinking. He was overcome with the workload and responsibility Wayne Enterprises came with. But, he had a hole in his heart and he knew that the only way to fix it was to…  
He looked up to Elena and gave her a reassuring smile “I intend on taking that responsibility.” Elena smiled back and gestured to him to follow him down a different hallway. The hallway was narrow and the decals of animals and cars stared at him, all smiling at him. As they kept walking down the hallway, the lights got dimmer and dimmer. They finally reached the third door onto their left (yes, he was counting) and Elena tip-toed and peeked into the window.  
  
“This is the toddlers’ room, come take a look.”  
  
Bruce didn’t have to tip-toe because he was a head taller than Elena but couldn’t get a clear look because the window was covered with dust and fingermarks left by the employees trying to clean the window.  
  
“Can we go inside?” Bruce asked Elena. She nodded and led him in. They spent about 20 minutes in that room, talking and playing with the toddlers. Bruce got to hold a couple of them as Elena talked to Bruce about their backstories. Although Bruce did think the children were adorable and wanted to adopt every single one of them, he was only prepared to adopt one child and wanted to look at the infants before making a decision.  
  
Elena led Bruce all the way down to the last door and peeked into the window. She turned and smiled at Bruce “It’s feeding time, you wouldn’t mind trying to feed one of them, do you?” Bruce shook his head and felt the nervousness bubble up in him again.  
  
Elena pushed open the door and greeted the two volunteers inside the room. Each of them held a formula bottle and held a baby in their arms. There was a third bottle that was sitting on the window sill, glittering because of the sunlight pouring in. It’s matching infant was laying in the back of the room, screaming it’s head off.  
Elena grabbed the bottle off the windowsill and held it to Bruce. Bruce took it and held out his arms for Elena to place the baby in the makeshift cradle he made. Elena lifted the screaming baby and placed it into his arms.  
  
The moment the baby was placed into Bruce’s arms, it immediately stopped shrieking but instead lowered his volume into pathetic little cries that pulled at Bruce’s heartstrings. The baby had little tufts of grey hair coming out of its head. It’ll have a strong head of hair when it grows older he chucked to himself.  
  
Elena watched Bruce carefully and lifted up the edge of the baby’s blanket. Bruce gasped. One of the baby’s feet was twisted in a 90 degree angle, possibly the reason why the baby had been crying so much.  
  
“We don’t have enough funds to get the baby the medical attention he needs,” she admitted “He’s about two weeks old and the window of treatment is closing in.” Both stared at the baby boy for a while in silence.  
  
The baby was sucking away at the bottle, his crying dying down. “He was probably crying because of the pain, huh?” Bruce whispered softly.  
  
Elena shook her head ‘Kids with clubfoot don’t feel discomfort or pain, kids around Dick's age have really soft bones so this is normal to him.” The baby quickly chugged the formula and opened his eyes to look at Bruce. His cerulean blue eyes glimmered in the sunlight and his free, tiny fist hit Bruce in the chest. The baby’s little tongue stuck out of his shocked-looking face, giving him a shell-shocked look which looked incredibly funny especially with the little tongue.  
  
“What’s his name?” Bruce asked, rocking the child against his shirt.  
  
“His name is Richard Grayson, but we call him Dick,” Elena chuckled, watching the child drool onto Bruce’s polo.  
  
“Hi, Dick,” Bruce whispered softly. He shifted Dick’s weight onto his arm and wiped the drool of the baby’s face with his free thumb. The baby began to doze off as his eyes grew smaller and thinner and his eyelids grew bigger.  
  
“His parents were trapeze artists,” Elena stated. Bruce’s eyes grew wide in shock, not expecting the child’s parentage. “There was an accident a few days after he was born and the circus lost custody of him. He was delivered to us two days ago.” They grew quiet again once more and the baby seemed to get heavier and heavier in Bruce’s arms.  
  
“Is he calling to you?” Elena asked quietly. Bruce nodded and held the warm bundle close to his chest. Elena nodded back and walked out of the room. Bruce sat down in a chair next to the window and watched the sunlight rays become narrower as the clouds prevented the sunlight from coming through.  
  
“Hey buddy, you’re so warm.” Bruce snuggled the baby up to his face and kissed the top of his head. “When we get back to Gotham, I’m going to get that foot fixed, I’m only going to get the best for you.” Elena came back with a bundle of papers and a few writing utensils and laid them out onto Bruce’s lap.  
  
“Here let me hold him for you,” Elena held her hands out and Bruce handed him to her. He immediately felt colder, missing the warmth of the baby, he quickly filled out the paperwork in order to hold his child again.  
  
“We’ve done a background check on you and as you already know that we’ve already checked your home to see if it is suitable for Dick. Since you’ve passed all of the checks, you’re able to go home with the boy today,” Elena informed him.  
  
“Alright thank you so much,” Bruce replied “Say bye Dick.” He picked up one of the baby’s little arms and waved it at Elena.  
She smiled at the little boy and gave him a small wave. “I’ll bring you guys out.”


	2. Insomnia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to preface this here: Uploads may be sporadic because of school and the fact that my laptop has officially passed away. (R.I.P Robert, you will be missed). Normal warnings/prefaces applied, but other than that, enjoy! :)

Chapter 2:  
“It won’t hurt right?” Bruce sat down on the chair holding Dick close to him. Dick was completely naked except for a diaper and was suckling away at a baby bottle. His fist knocked the baby bottle aside, making it fall to the floor. He smiled at Bruce, looking quite pleased with himself. Bruce shook his head and picked up the bottle, wiping any dirt from the mouth of it.  
  
The doctor replied “Of course not, since the tendons and ligaments of a newborn are very flexible, so little Richard over here won’t feel any pain. I’ll just manipulate and stretch the child’s arch this session and place a cast over his foot. I’ll be as gentle as possible.” The doctor began massaging and stretching Dick’s foot, it looked almost like he was kneading dough. Bruce was unnerved by the motion and it made him feel a little sick. He turned away from the scene and watched the bright paintings on the wall.  
  
“You’re doing better than most fathers are,” the doctor said comforting him, “Most fathers pass out or excuse themselves from the room.”  
  
Bruce admitted “I don’t want to leave him alone.” Time passed quickly as the doctor kept molding and kneading his son’s legs, ankles and feet. Bruce was even able to start watching the doctor perform the Ponseti Method. Of course, Bruce felt extremely worried and nervous about the whole process, but Dick had a smile plastered onto his face, seemingly understanding his Father’s concerns and reassuring him.  
  
“He’s a happy baby,” the doctor chuckled “You’re very lucky.”  
  
Bruce smiled “I know I am.” The doctor finished off the session by placing the cast onto his son’s foot.  
  
“So for this part of the process, I’m adjusting Dick’s arch,” he gestured to the baby’s foot “As you saw, his arch is unusually high, but I’m adjusting his foot so that the arch will become more natural and normal. In the next section, I’m adjusting his foot so that the foot aligns with the heel. I’m afraid that the next cast will be much larger than this one, but it’s all to prevent Richard from moving too much and messing up the forming of his ankles.”  
  
The doctor then explained the proper process of cleaning Dick with the casts on. Bruce was listening with the talking going into one ear and exiting out the other. He spent too many times cleaning himself with his cast so he already knew what to expect when washing himself off.  
/  
  
The shrieks started again. He turned his head to stare at the alarm clock. 3:02 AM. Bruce closed his eyes and winced, it had only been 2 hours since he last put Dick to bed. How did a child this small produce such horrific sounds?  
  
Bruce felt so tempted to ignore the cries the little boy had made, but he knew that Alfred would come after him with a broom in hand in order to sweep him out of bed in order to make sure that the child was alright. He also couldn’t leave the baby alone. His baby.  
  
He groaned and pulled himself out of bed and quietly opened the door. The bright moonlight lit up the dark hallway quite sufficiently, not requiring Bruce to walk all the way to the other side of the huge hallway to turn on the lights.  
  
Despite the screams Dick had produced, the moonlight gave the walls a seemingly calm, blue glow and the shadow of the huge bay window at the end of the hallway made it even more beautiful.  
  
Bruce shuffled his feet across the hallway as the screams and cries grew louder and louder. He felt his eyes tempted to close as he drew open the door and the screams were louder than ever.  
  
Bruce turned on the dim lamp and blinked around the room. He hadn’t had the chance to admire the nursery Alfred had set up before he arrived home with Dick, but now that he saw it, it was indeed beautiful. The curtains that bordered the large windows were custard yellow with baby blue flowers adorning it, the walls itself were painted baby blue and the carpet was a nice, plush tan color. There was a changing station right next to the door and a Victorian style wooden horse next to one of the windows.  
  
The window sills had a platform that was large enough for a man to sit on and Alfred took advantage of that and made a reading nook out of them, placing pillows and blankets. Bright jewels and lights glowed in the dark, that hung above the nook, giving the baby a nightlight.  
  
The crib itself was a typical crib with horses and flowers painted onto it. There was a large curtain that hung above the crib, shaping a little tent. A mobile hung above the baby, with dancing elephants, ringmasters and trapeze artists hanging below the mobile. Alfred must have gotten that after Bruce discussed Dick’s backstory with him.  
  
Bruce made a note to thank Alfred for covering the room. In the meantime, he had to care for a screaming child.  
  
“Shh… hey chum, your father’s here.” Bruce felt weird calling himself a father when he hadn’t actually given birth to a child, but then again, Dick was his kid. He leaned down and hoisted the baby up into his arms, he checked the child’s diaper for a number one or two and even tried giving him a bottle, which Dick swatted away.  
  
Nothing would cease Dick’s screaming. Bruce tried sitting in a rocking chair in the corner and bouncing the baby up and down. He tried humming a song for the boy but he screamed over him. That was when Bruce spotted something in the room that he hadn’t seen before, a record player.  
  
He looked through the bookshelf Alfred had installed next to the reading nook and found a box of old vinyls Bruce used to listen to when he was younger. He remembered how Dick was intrigued and always calmed down by the sound of Bruce’s voice so he decided to go with a song that had a deeper voice in it. He found the perfect song and smiled to himself. There was a reason this was such a popular song.  
  
Bruce placed the vinyl disc into the record player and lowered the needle down to play the track. The slow beats and the wobbly sounds of the songs brought Bruce back in the past when his own parents used to dance to the song on their anniversary and Bruce would watch them in pure bliss and happiness.  
  
The song was loud enough to overcome Dick’s screaming, enabling him to calm down and listen to the song. Bruce rocked him in his arms and snuggled him close. He began to sing.  
  
“Put your head on my shoulder.”  
  
The wave of nostalgia and grief filled Bruce to the brim when he was brought back after his parents’ funeral, he smashed a vinyl containing this very song in it (only to have Alfred replace it, thank Alfred for that).  
  
“Hold me in your arms, baby.”  
  
The cycle started again, now he was a parent holding onto a child.  
  
“Squeeze me oh so tight, show me.”  
  
A tear dripped down his face and splashed onto Dick’s face. The baby stared back at him in confusion but the child seemingly felt his father’s sorrow. Bruce only noticed this when he watched his child tear up himself in response to the tear.  
  
“That you love me too.”  
  
The child began to whimper and a tear slipped down his face. Bruce hastily wiped the tear away from his face.  
  
“Put your lips next to mine, dear.”  
  
Bruce began to twirl around and dance with the child in his arms, careful not to move his foot or bob his head too much. He pretended that the room was candlelit and that his baby was a few years younger. Bruce had begun to start teaching his kid how to dance. He pretended that the toddler became a child, not necessarily the top of his class but always happy and smiling, as he always was when he was a baby. Suddenly, his child was a dashing, young teenager, carefree and without a stress in the world.  
  
Then he was getting married, having children and sitting next to Bruce on his deathbed, holding tightly onto his father’s hand. Bruce shook his head, it was moving all too fast, he was glad that his baby was still a baby and that he would have many more years with his child.  
  
After the song began to end and Dick had fallen asleep. Bruce approached the crib to put his baby back inside, but he wanted to wait for the song to finish.  
  
“Whisper in my ear, baby.”  
  
Bruce held Dick’s head up in between his thumb and the rest of his fingers. The baby’s long eyelashes fluttering ever so often. He leaned down to kiss Dick’s forehead.  
  
“Words I want to hear, maybe.”  
  
“I won’t ever leave you, son.” Bruce whispered, putting the baby into the crib. He took long strides to the vinyl record to lower to volume so that the baby would sleep throughout the rest of the track. He walked to the door and shut off the lamp he had turned off. Bruce quietly closed the door and left his son on the other side. He could still hear the song, slightly muffled through the door.  
  
“Put your head on my shoulder.”


	3. Responsibility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're having a great day!

He’s growing up too fast, Bruce thought to himself watching Dick drag himself across the nursery floor. Bruce watched as his 10 month old repeatedly hoisted himself up and crawled with only his two hands, as his feet dragged behind him. Bruce winced as Dick pushed himself against the floor, causing the braces attached to his feet screech against the wooden floor.   
It was a continuous process. Press down on the floor, lift himself up, push and screech. Press down on the floor, lift himself up, push and screech. Press down on the floor, lift himself up, push and screech.  
Bruce patted his lap, motioning for Dick to come to him. He had been trying to get Dick to take his first step, but it was difficult because of the braces attached to his legs and feet. Dick picked himself up, stumbling into standing position.  
  
Dick began to whine, wobbling on his two, uncomfortable feet. He held his hands out for leverage and looked down on the floor. He had been too afraid to take the first few steps, knowing that he would eventually fall and land on his face.  
  
“Come on baby,” Bruce said to him, beckoning “Come here, Dickie.”  
  
Dick’s face settled into one of deep determination and was so adorable, to the point where Bruce wanted to simply reach out and squeeze his cheeks. Dick squeezed his hands into little fists and took a step towards Bruce.  
  
Bruce’s palms began sweating in excitement and anticipation “Yeah baby, come here!”  
  
The excitement diffused into Dick’s system, but it quickly dissipated when he landed flat on his bottom. He huffed out a little breath and fought to stand back up again.  
  
They went on like this for a couple of minutes. Dick would swing out his legs in anticipation, when his knees would either buckle or fold in on itself, and the child would end up on the floor again. Bruce had to stop however, when Dick finally fell, smacking his head against the hardwood floor.  
  
Bruce bolted up and gasped. Dick’s face went into a look of momentary shock, his eyes growing wide before his face scrunched up. The baby took a deep inhale in before screaming like there was no tomorrow.  
  
Bruce immediately felt a pang of guilt ricocheting in his chest. He quickly scooped up Dick and held him close to his chest, he began patting the child on his back and shushing him. “I’m sorry Dickie, I shouldn’t have made you keep going.”  
  
Every pat that had made contact to the back of the baby’s back, made him bounce up and down in Bruce’s arms, but failed to quiet the child any further. The child snuggled against Bruce’s neck, his wailing muffled against his shirt.  
  
Bruce’s failed attempts at making Dick feel better had brought him walking straight into the manor’s kitchen where he had gone to search for Alfred to help make him feel better.  
  
“Alfred! Alfred?” Bruce stopped mid-way through the doorway, he had forgotten already. He had been so used to his butler onsite that he had forgotten that he had given Alfred a month off to visit his family in the U.K. Holy mother of- a month. A month. How was Bruce supposed to survive a month to raise a child on his own?  
  
Alfred had been with Bruce every step of the way in Dick’s progression in his health and growth, this would be the first time he would be on his own. For a while as well. Bruce shook his head, pushing these thoughts away from his head. Dick was his baby, he had been since Bruce himself brought upon himself that responsibility. Now he had to prove that he was a capable dad.  
  
Bruce’s eyes glazed over around the kitchen, Alfred had only been gone for a few days and a half, yet the sink was piled with dishes and baby bottles and the stove had bits and pieces of leftover food that had flown out of the pans and pots they had been cooking in. Alfred always kept the place tidy, clean and the fridge and pantry completely stocked. Good old Alfie.  
  
Bruce opened the refrigerator to scavenge for any leftover food mash or baby food to feed and calm down lil’ Dickie, but instead, he nearly gasped from the stark contrast between the fully stocked ice box Alfred had kept to the bare and dirty one that stood before his eyes now.  
  
Bruce clenched his eyes together and pinched his glabella with his thumb and index finger. He then proceeded to rub the sides of his temples to attempt to rid himself of the inevitable tension headache that was beginning to arise.  
  
Thank goodness there was still a can of baby food in the pantry, he thought to himself, sighing of relief. At least now Dick would have a full belly.  
  
Bruce grabbed Dick’s little blue clown bib off of a metal hook as well as a metal spoon that he rinsed off in the sink. He quickly assembled the high chair and locked the baby in. Bruce then wrapped the bib around Dick’s neck, his hands accidentally brushed against the child’s hair. He was momentarily distracted by the pure, delicious smell his hair was and the fluffiness of it. He patted Dick’s hair to savor the moment for one last time before hurrying to open the bottle of baby food.  
  
Ferger’s Baby Food: Carrot and Tomato Soup, the can read. On it, there was a picture of an All-American baby and a cartoon picture of a smiling baby covered in carrot and tomato soup. Inside the can, was an extremely unappetizing looking red-orange concoction, Bruce curled his lip in disgust. He was lucky that Dick was only a baby and wasn’t looking for the high-end stuff.  
  
Bruce unscrewed the can and scooped up a little bit of goop before presenting it in front of Dick’s mouth. The baby had a little taste of the unidentifiable liquid and decided that he really did not like it. He made an effort to push Bruce’s hand away and smack his hands against the high chair counter, making the can bounce up and down.  
  
Bruce immediately grabbed the can, in fear of Dick spilling his food all over the place. He sighed, irritated. How was he supposed to calm the baby?  
  
He then remembered watching his friends feed their children by distracting them with pretending the food was a plane or a train. It seemed to have worked for other babies, why not his own?  
  
Bruce eagerly scooped another spoonful of soup and held it up for Dick. “Dickie, look at this!” He said to him, waving the spoon in front of him. “You’re Vanderbilt and here’s the train! Guess what sound the trains make when they go to good old Vandie?” Dick’s eyes immediately shone and he began to clap his hands together eagerly.  
  
“That’s right Dick! They go money, money, money, money, money…” Bruce brought the spoon into Dick’s open mouth, causing the latter to quickly swallow it and open it again.  
  
“Wow, you really liked that, huh?” Dick eagerly giggled and clapped his hands even more.  
  
“What about....”

  


/////

  


Bruce stripped Dick all the way down to his diapers. After that eventful dinner, Dick had squeezed out diarrhea into his diaper, causing his buttocks to become inflamed and the baby to begin to cry.  
Bruce wrinkled his nose as he held Dick down with one hand on his stomach and his other hand to skillfully toss the diaper into the trash can next to him. He then reached over the changing station to grab some baby wipes and immediately began to wipe down the child. Dick, no longer crying, began to grin at the ceiling. He kicked his little, braced legs, making contact with Bruce’s ribs.  
  
“Hey, kiddo,” Bruce said, patting Dick on the stomach “No, kicking your father. You’re getting your poop everywhere.”  
  
Dick kicked Bruce once more in defiance and smiled cheekily at Bruce, forming little dimples on his cheeks. The kid was just too cute to be scolded harshly yet, Bruce would just have to wait a few more years.  
  
“Look at that, your poop just ended up on the changing table,” Bruce huffed, shaking his head. Dick giggled and his father flicked his nose.  
  
“You like it when I say poop, huh? You’re going to have an awful sense of humor when you hit puberty.”  
  
Bruce pulled up Dick’s diaper and blew a raspberry into his stomach. “Handsome, charming Dick Grayson-Wayne making poop jokes to attract all the girls.” Dick shrieked in and began waving his arms in the air with delight.  
  
He lifted the baby off the changing table “Alright, let’s get you dressed up.”  
  
The two were going out on a chilly, autumn’s night to go grocery shopping at their nearby Whole Food, so they would be walking on the way there. Dick was dressed up in a crocheted, orange sweater with black leggings and little gloves that Bruce had struggled to put on. Selina blessed him with a small crocheted black hat that had little cat ears on the top and little pom-poms hanging on either side of his face.  
  
Bruce held Dick up, balancing the small boy in one arm to fit his key into the front door. The nice breeze chilled Dick’s face making his cheeks and nose red. He giggled as a leaf landed onto his little head.  
  
Bruce turned back around to see Dick trying to grab the leaf with his grubby little hands with his tongue sticking out. He breathed out a laugh and blew the brown, crispy leaf off of his head. Dick squealed and nearly fell out of Bruce’s arms from trying to catch it.  
  
“Woah, there cowboy. There’s enough leaves to go around for that,” Bruce laughed. He brushed his hair back and began walking to the Whole Foods. 

  
  


Dick buried his face into Bruce’s shoulder the minute they entered the market. There were blaring lights everywhere and the store was immediately filled by people talking loudly and kids chasing each other around the store.  
  
Bruce winced and immediately peeled Dick off of him to place him into a shopping cart. He cleared his throat and began pushing the cart towards the bread section to pick up some supplies for tomorrow’s sandwiches (the only thing he knows how to cook without burning down the kitchen). A figure immediately blurred in front of him and collapsed on the floor when the cart hit him. Bruce blinked and flinched. He quickly ran around the cart in panic.  
  
“Uncle Bruce! Uncle Bruce!” a red headed toddler began to shriek. Bruce’s insides began to melt in relief but was immediately replaced by concern.  
  
“Barbara, I almost hit you!” Bruce scolded, heaving out a sigh of relief, “What are you doing in Bristol?”  
  
“What’s a Bristol?” Babs grinned toothily. Her freckles stretched adorably as her smile widened.  
  
Bruce shook his head in disbelief, “Where’s your father?”  
  
“Right here!” Commissioner Gordon waved a few aisles down near the frozen foods section. Jim began walking up the aisle towards Bruce with his hand out.  
  
“It’s been a while Bruce! How are you holding up?” He asked, shaking Bruce’s hand.  
  
Bruce sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Who knew being a father to a baby was stressful?”  
  
Gordon rolled his eyes “Yeah, who knew?” He turned to face Dick sitting on the front of the shopping cart, bouncing up and down, making clanking sounds every time he kicked the cart.  
  
Bruce watched as Gordon held out a finger to brush Dick’s rosy cheek, which bounced back in protest. Gordon looked over to Bruce and gestured to the young boy “This the kid you’ve been gushing about?”  
  
Barbara bounced up and down as she squealed, “You’re Dick right? I’m Barbara but you can call me Babs! You’re so cute!” Dick smiled back down at her with a toothless grin, creating spit bubbles with his mouth.  
  
“I love him!” Barbara swiveled back to face Gordon, her pigtails bouncing to keep up with her. “Can we keep him? Please?!”  
  
Gordon laughed and patted Bruce on the shoulder. “Unfortunately kid, he has to go back home with Bruce.”  
  
“But Daddy…” the little girl pouted, her eyes growing wide as she begged.  
  
“You guys can visit anytime! Heck, why don’t you come over for dinner next week? Alfred’s out of town,” Bruce piped, readjusting Dick’s pacifier, which had fallen out of his mouth.  
  
“That sounds great!” Gordon exclaimed, he peeked down to glance at his daughter. “What’d you think kiddo?”  
  
“PLAYDATE!” Barbara squealed, jumping up and down. “I want to show Dick my new doll!”  
  
“Alright, I’ll buy your favorite ice cream too Babs. I heard from your father that you love mint chocolate chip!” Bruce winked at her.  
  
Babs screamed and ran to Bruce. “THANK YOU UNCLE BRUCE! I LOVE YOU!” Bruce scooped her up and scratched her scalp.  
  
“You’re welcome, kid,” Bruce laughed. He turned around to face Dick.  
  
“What’d you think Di-”. Dick was nowhere to be seen. The shopping cart was left completely empty. Bruce blindly spun around in deep panic.  
  
“Where- where’s Dickie? Where’s my son?” Bruce gasped. Gordon and Barbara were already calling out for him, Gordon was on the phone requesting backup.  
  
The room spun and Bruce’s knees felt like jelly. He gasped for air and he felt like he was drowning. Heat prickled behind his eyes and his mind detached from his body and he began running around the store like a maniac calling for his son.  
  
“Dick! DICK!” Bruce didn’t care how many people were staring at him or how many snickers erupted from others. How dare they disturb him, how dare they laugh at him. He was preoccupied with finding his son.  
  
Dick, baby please… Bruce felt betrayed by his own body as hot tears rolled down his face. He gritted his teeth in an attempt to make himself feel stronger, or manlier somehow.  
  
He let out a scream of frustration as he went through the next aisle and the next only to find them all completely angry.  
  
Bruce slumped over on the curb of the sidewalk in utter disbelief and loss. He was gone, his baby boy was gone. His mother, his father. He didn’t want to imagine Alfred’s face when he came back home. His hands rubbed against his eyes furiously, attempting to rub away the tears.  
  
“Load him in the back! He’s precious cargo”  
  
Bruce looked up with pure curiosity as he spotted several men across the parking lot in completely black gear, head to toe, loading a bundle into a large white van. A crying and screaming bundle.  
  
Bruce wiped tears from his eyes and narrowed his eyes to focus on the bundle as much as he could.  
  
“He’s the heir, of course we’re going to make bank for this.”  
  
“This is too risky! In a neighborhood like this? We’re bound to get busted.”  
  
His hand curled up into a fist as he stalked towards the car. He could faintly hear Gordon behind him yelling for him. It was all underwater, all sounds were muffed out by the pounding sound of blood rushing through his veins. Then, there was nothing.


	4. The Punch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Child Abuse Trigger (Educational Mistake!)  
> I don't know if anyone gets PTSD from getting slapped or spanked (aka corporal punishment for a child), I certainly do :D  
> If anyone's confused by why I added new tags/edited the chapter, I didn't know this but:  
> Slapping across the face = Child Abuse  
> Spanked (i.e. buttocks, arm, etc.) = Corporal Punishment
> 
> Or maybe everyone has known that and I'm just dumb but-  
> I mistook "slapping" for "spanking" but saw that as a form of corporal punishment rather than child abuse. I also took in account how my writing could have made the audience mistaken Alfred for approving child abuse, when he really doesn't mind a bit of corporal punishment (to an extent). I'm sorry that I made this mistake and I'll try to do better.
> 
> If you are experiencing domestic violence, please see a therapist and call this number: National Domestic Violence Hotline: (1-800-799-7233)
> 
> BTW: Time jumps aren't written in the passage, they're implied. AKA, expect large time jumps in between "////" and chapters.

“Yeah baby!” Babs gushed as she made grabby motions at Dick. Her hands and knees padded down onto the velvet carpet as she crawled towards Dick. She pushed an auburn strand of hair behind her ear as she grinned.  
  
Dick was dressed in a sailor blue, striped shirt with large overalls and was busy suckling away at his pacifier. He excitedly squealed as Babs rushed up to him to tackle him into a hug and tickle him.  
  
“No… no…!” Dick screamed as he smacked at Babs’s arms with his little fists.  
  
“Yes, yes, you cute little baby!” Babs squeaked as she planted kisses all over Dick’s forehead and cheeks.  
  
The little boy giggled as he attempted to wiggle against the floor to try to escape the Tartarus of tickles and slobbery kisses, only to be pulled back into the older girl’s embrace all over again.  
  
“Daddy! Da-addy! No more!” He cried out for his father. Bruce appeared around the corner in all his glory with a bathrobe and one of his arms in a cast.  
  
“I’m glad you kids are having fun,” Bruce chuckled.  
  
Barbara grinned shyly, “Thanks for letting me stay over with Dickie.”  
  
Bruce smiled, “I’ll let you stay over more if you start changing his diapers.”  
  
The younger girl wrinkled her nose in displeasure and turned around to face the baby boy, who peered up at her with dimples framing his face.  
  
Barbara reached out to squeeze his cheeks. “I’ll be back Dickie, I’ll see you next time!”  
  
Bruce motioned Barbara towards the door, “Come with me, I’ll walk with you downstairs to the front door.”  
  
Barbara skipped ahead through the hallway. She paused for a bit and leaned over to peer at her shoes. She carefully licked her finger and scrubbed at the newly polished surface. Barbara had claimed that since she was turning four this year, her father got her new shoes since she was becoming a “big girl” and would no longer need to wear those strange shoes that flashed a new color every single time she hopped.  
  
Bruce caught up to her and waited as she finished her moment. She looked up and smiled at Bruce. They began walking down the stairs towards the second floor when she asked: “Uncle Bruce, why does Dick need to wear those metal thingies?”  
  
Bruce hummed as he thought of a way to explain how braces worked to a three year old.  
  
“Well, Dickie has special legs. Since we want him to have normal legs, we need to make sure we have him wear those metal thingies.”  
  
“What’s wrong with special legs? Maybe he’ll get super powers!” Barbara squealed as her eyes lighted up.  
  
Bruce chucked and rubbed Barbara’s head. “He won’t be able to walk properly. If you consider that a super power, I’m certain he’ll be a fine superhero!”  
  
Bruce opened his mouth once more to ask the young girl when she would be going to nursery, when a loud shriek interrupted his train of thought.  
  
“DAADDDDYY!!” A red blur ran down the stairs into the embrace of a very disheveled man in a trenchcoat.  
  
“Bruce,” the man nodded to the younger near the stairs. “Thanks for getting Babs off my hands for a few hours.”  
  
“I should really be thanking you, Gordon, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t gotten to Dick when you did,” Bruce frowned, thinking back to that panic inducing moment when he spotted his baby being hauled into the back of a van.  
  
“Only in a day’s work as Commissioner,” Gordon grunted as he stretched. “My back is getting sore these days, I was hoping I’d have at least a decade until I would need to consider going to a chiropractor.”  
  
Bruce chuckled and clasped the older man on the back. “I’ll see you soon old friend, don’t be afraid to send Barbara over anytime, the kids were having a lot of fun.”  
  
“Sir, Master Dick has knocked over some of your papers in the office, I’d suggest you come up to sort through the mess as soon as possible. Thank God for my pulled calves, because I don’t know the starts and ends to this pile.”  
  
Bruce waved the Gordons off, apologetically and began to make his way upstairs.

  


////////

  


Alfred quietly scrubbed the chubby baby from head to toe, smoothing and rubbing every crevice of his body to make sure to get all the jam as far away from his skin as possible. Dick’s formerly slightly curled hair now sat into spikes and tentacles on the top of his scalp, shaped together with water and soap.  
  
“Master Dick, on the contrary to what your father believes, I do think that you will show great promise to being a rambunctious monkey rather than a quiet koala.” He thought for a moment before pressing a little forcefully on the child’s chin.  
  
The baby opened his mouth without qualms, allowing Alfred to look within it. “Your eighth tooth is growing in Master Dick, I do look forward to starting to feed you harder foods.”  
  
Dick babbled, dribbling soap water out of his mouth and peering at Alfred with curiosity. “I can’t say that I’m not particularly happy about having a monkey as a grandson, I suppose. It certainly would be nice to have this empty house be filled up with laughter again.”  
  
Alfred frowned and lifted Dick out of the tub, scanning him from head to toe. “I’d only hope that I am equipped enough so you would grow up to be a fine, strong man, Master Dick.  
  
Finally some peace and quiet, Alfred thought to himself. Dick had spent the previous thirty minutes splashing the water in the tub, getting water and suds all over Alfred’s suit, and attempting to taste the foam created from the bubble bath soap Alfred had used (he succeeded once, but made a face when discovering how bitter it tasted). He was now tired out and he began to fight against his own eyes to keep from sleep.  
  
Alfred carefully rubbed circles into Dick’s temples, hopefully encouraging him to take that sleep that he desperately needed. The baby’s eyelids eventually lowered and his breath evened out, his eyelashes fluttered with every breath he took and his mouth parted open.  
  
The butler hoisted him out of the room and wrapped him into a soft, fluffy blanket, carefully drying him out and rubbed cream onto him. Bruce knocked quietly on the bedroom door and opened it.  
  
He narrowed his eyes and surveyed the room. “There’s no crying in here,” Bruce whispered suspiciously. He slowly made his way towards Alfred and held his hands out.  
  
“Can I hold him?”  
  
“Of course, Master Bruce,” Alfred replied. He carefully transferred Dick over to Bruce, who then took it upon himself to sit on the bed and lay his child over his chest. He sat in comfort in the middle of the bed, stroking Dick’s back and scratching his scalp.  
  
Alfred smiled to himself as he closed the door to the hallway behind him, watching his foster son cuddle with his new son from the distance. He walked down the stairs as he dreamt of a better future.

  


///////

  


“Happy birthday, dear Dickie! Happy birthday to you!” Bruce leaned forward towards the small tiered cake and blew out the candles for the brand new one year old sitting on the high chair.  
  
“Cake! Cake! I want cake!” Dick gurgled as he bounced on the high chair.  
  
“I’m currently cutting the cake,Master Dick, no need to get worked up,” Alfred chided as he reached out to cut a small piece of the rich, chocolatey cake for the boy. “Master Bruce, please be sure to fix a bib for Master Dick.”  
  
Bruce managed to wrestle the bib onto Dick without the boy struggling and crying for once. “Do you know how old you are now, Big Boy?”  
  
“I’m TWWWWOOOOOO!!!” Dick screamed.  
  
Bruce groaned as he plugged his ears in with his fingers. “Please, inside voices, sir!”  
  
“Your cake young sir, I believe congratulations are in order,” Alfred carefully set the plate in front of Dick’s excited hands. Dick reached out to grab pieces of the cake when Alfred lightly pushed his hands away and presented him a fork.  
  
“You’re a big boy now, Master Dick. We use silverware in the household,” Alfred retorted. Dick pouted but took the fork regardless.  
  
“What did you get me for my birthday?” Dick piped up.  
  
Bruce began to dig into his cake, “Why don’t we take a look after you finish your cake?”  
  
“Okay!”  
  
Dick quickly devoured the cake, grinning proudly. Bruce looked over his son in admiration. Within two years, his club feet had become significantly better than it was when Bruce first got him from the orphanage. Dick’s hair had grown into tufts of jet black hair, still thin but growing significantly thicker. Dick had become skinnier, his baby fat melting into his growing height. Dick was a bit smaller than the average one year old, but Bruce was sure that he would grow at a healthy rate.  
  
The only thing that never changed was his eyes. Those damned cerulean eyes. They were the same whenever he cried, threw a tantrum or laughed, there was always a mischievous glint to them. And his laugh, his laugh always remained as that small, momentary cackle mixed with a bit of gurgle.  
  
“MORE! MORE!” Dick’s screaming interrupted Bruce out of his thoughts.  
  
“Master Dick, you’ll be bouncing all over the walls if you eat more.”  
  
“NOOOOOO,” Dick wailed, his face was now red faced. He shoved his paper plate off his high chair, sending crumbs flying all over the floor.  
  
“Dick…” Bruce held up a finger in warning. “You calm down right now.”  
  
Dick screeched in anger and slammed his small hands against the high chair. Alfred reached his gloved hand out in an attempt to comfort him. Dick smacked Alfred’s hand away, hard, who immediately recoiled out of shock.  
  
Bruce saw red and a loud crack rang through the air. What followed next was a stunned silence and a toddler erupting into tears. Dick’s left cheek was growing into a darker shade of red than the rest of his face. Tears began to spew out of his clenched eyelids and dribbled down his chin. His mouth was fixated into a pucked frown with his lip pouting out.  
  
Bruce was stunned and a hot, uncomfortable warmth that could only be called guilt, spewed out and spread throughout his chest. He immediately lifted Dick off his high chair and held him close to his chest. He frantically began to pat Dick on the back.  
  
“I’m sorry Dickie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,” Bruce tried to hush Dick, who only screamed in betrayal and attempted to push himself away from his adoptive father.  
  
“Go away! I hate you, Daddy!” Dick slipped from underneath Bruce and took off towards a different part of the house.  
  
Bruce took his head into his hands. “I’m a terrible father,” Bruce muttered under his breath.  
  
A hand softly settled onto his shoulder. Bruce looked up at his butler.  
  
“On the contrary, Master Bruce, I’d be inclined to disagree,” Alfred said, softly.  
  
“I hit him, Alfred! I lost my temper.”  
  
“You are a great father, Master Bruce. You’ve given Master Dick a good life. Although you don’t always have time for him, you take every chance to give him a father figure,” Alfred retorted.  
  
Bruce wrung his hands out. “Where has that gotten him? Now he hates me and I’ve done one of the things I’ve sworn never to do!”  
  
"Believe me, children are flimsy with their grudges and seldom act upon their own words," Alfred snorted, “Although I do not condone that sort of punishment, there’s nothing wrong with a little smack on the buttocks. In my day, it was common for each child to get a daily spanking at least once in the morning and once at night for good measure.” Bruce looked up at him strangely. “I assure you, I don’t joke about this subject.”  
  
Bruce shook his head, but a smile graced upon his face. “What can I do to be a better father, Alfred?”  
  
Alfred began to wipe down the dishes with an old cloth before replying, “You can do what I’ve always done when rearing you, talk to him.”  
  
“How did you even deal with me Alfred? I bet I was such a problem child. I can remember every fit I threw and it was quite often.”  
  
Alfred gave Bruce a smug look before replying “I assure you, Master Bruce. It’s all I could’ve expected when I signed up for this job.”  
  
Bruce gave an exasperated sigh and began to run around the manor to find Dick.

  


“Dick?”  
  
Dick was curled up behind the water fountain, quietly sniffling and covering his eyes with his hands. His hands were covered in cuts and his clothes were torn.  
  
Bruce immediately ran over to Dick, totally aghast. “Dick, what happened?”  
  
Dick bursted into tears and Bruce immediately grabbed Dick into a hug. Dick screamed out in pain and pushed Bruce away.  
  
Bruce cupped the side of Dick’s face, observing a deep cut that cut across his forehead, through his eyebrow and down his temple. “Are you okay, what’s wrong honey?”  
  
“Hurts!” Dick pointed down near his ankle, where his braces got tangled in the rose bush. Bruce sighed in relief, thankful that it wasn’t too serious. He quickly untangled the stems that trapped Dick’s foot and lifted the boy from the ground.  
  
“Oh baby, how did you get into the bush?” Bruce muttered to himself as he wiped at Dick’s tears.  
  
“Fell,” Dick replied as he pointed at the window. The window was wide opened from the drying of the drawing room from Alfred’s cleaning. He would need to make sure to remind Alfred to put a baby gate in front of every room that Alfred would clean.  
  
As Bruce walked back to the house, Dick made a choking noise and threw up over Bruce’s shoulder. He now understood what it meant to be so upset that one would become sick. Bruce sighed in resignation, he needed a nap, both Dick and Bruce.  
  
After he had changed out of his own clothes, he helped Dick change himself. He was getting ready for bed when a small body climbed on top of him. Bruce immediately recognized the smell of baby shampoo and powder and lifted his arm up, inviting Dick to crawl into his embrace.  
  
“Daddy, Daddy,” Dick muttered sleepily as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to Bruce’s face.  
  
“Yes, Dickie?” Bruce whispered as he ruffled Dick’s soft locks.  
  
“I’m sorry, I don’t hate you.” Those few words immediately sent warmth into his heart and Bruce pulled Dick towards his face so he could kiss him.  
  
“I’m sorry too,” Bruce muttered. He drew the blanket up to cover the two of them.  
  
“It hurt.”  
  
Bruce could feel the uncomfortable heat rise up in his chest again.  
  
“I know, I’m sorry. Next time, don’t hit Alfred okay?”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Bruce relaxed to the feeling of a warm weight weighing on top his chest and drifted off into deep sleep.


	5. Family Trees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm sorry about last chapter!  
> Enjoy!

“Got your notebooks?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“All of them?”  
  
“All three!”  
  
Bruce tugged the backpack away from Dick and recounted the notebooks, scowling his brows.  
  
“There’s four in here. Where did you get three?”  
  
“No there isn’t! See, one, two, six, three!” Dick pointed and recounted each number.  
  
Bruce sighed and rubbed his face over with his palm. He had literally spent two hours arguing with Dick over the correct way to count, boy did that kid have lungs. He spent weeks attempting to teach him how to count correctly, apparently to no avail.  
  
“It’s one, two, three, four. I’m just kidding Daddy,” Dick grinned. Bruce sighed of relief and scowled at Dick.  
  
“You scared me.”  
  
“It’s funny,” Dick cackled. Bruce squeezed Dick’s cheek and kissed the top of his head. He peered into Dick’s bag one more time before he frowned and pulled out a stuffed sock monkey with long arms and legs.  
  
“Dick, you can’t bring this to school.”  
  
Dick began to slouch and whine “Please… I’m going to be so lonely.”  
  
Bruce shook his head and closed the bag without placing the monkey back into it. “Some kid’s going to steal it.”  
  
Dick pouted and Bruce brushed his hand against his cheek, “Hey, if you leave the monkey here, I’ll think about bringing you to that circus that you wanted to visit.”  
  
The boy shot up and grinned widely “When? When?!”  
  
Bruce stuck a tongue out at the five year old child “I said I’m thinking about it!” Dick began to jump and skip around in joy, when Alfred appeared in front of the parlor door.  
  
“Master Dick, the limousine is ready to bring you to school,” Alfred called out, waiting patiently by the hallway.  
  
Dick turned back to Bruce to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.  
  
“Bye Daddy!”  
  
Bruce brushed a loose lock of hair behind Dick’s ear and patted his cheeks.  
  
“Have fun on your first day at elementary school, make me proud son,” Bruce replied. He waved Alfred and Dick off and returned to tidying up his appearance to get ready for work.  
  
Dick had recently gotten a haircut, the private school required a haircut to keep every child’s hair length above the shoulders so they had to chop off the boy’s hair earlier that week. Dick had been particularly mournful about that fact but Bruce couldn’t help noting how adorable Dick looked in his little school uniform and his haircut.  
  
He had a dark red uniform that was made up of a blazer, tie, shorts and high knee socks. Any fancy brand of shoes was allowed to complete the outfit. As adorable and posh Dick looked, he looked extremely uncomfortable in the outfit and had in fact complained about the fact that he wouldn’t be able to go to his favorite deli place in downtown Gotham like all the rest of Gotham’s elementary school students.  
  
Nevertheless, Bruce was only going to give the best to Dick and yes, indeed, Gotham Elementary was the best private school in the Mid-Atlantic Region. Correct to Bruce’s suspicions, Dick did indeed grow as well as other children his age, although remaining a bit smaller.  
  
Dick’s interests did expand as he grew older, although he was exceptionally average in academic studies, he had a growing interest in gymnastics and acrobatics. Bruce smiled to himself when he thought of that, perhaps acrobat blood could indeed pass from parent to child.  
  
Bruce shook his head and packed his papers into his briefcase before turning out the lights to drive to Wayne Tower.

  


///////

  


Bruce yawned, stretching his arms up towards the air as he smacked his lips and walked towards his bedroom. He had gotten home from a long night at Wayne Tower, too many papers and too many files to sort through. He had almost fallen asleep during his six hour long staff meeting, which would’ve spilled his coffee all over an important investor of Wayne Enterprises. Thankfully, Lucius caught his eyelids drooping just in time and gave him a hearty thump on the back.  
  
Alfred had already tucked Dick in and headed to bed himself, so the empty hallways and rooms were silent except for the echoing of Bruce’s footsteps. He stopped by Dick’s room and pressed his ear against the door to make sure that there were no shenanigans happening way past his bedtime.  
  
Nothing, silence. Bruce smiled to himself and officially shuffled across the hall to his own bed. He slowly opened the door and turned around. Bruce nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw a small body on the bed. It was Dick. Bruce rushed over, expecting the worse, when Dick slowly opened his eyes and bolted up.  
  
“Da-Daddy?” Dick rubbed his eyes and blinked a couple of times at the sudden rush of light enveloping the room.  
  
Bruce scooped Dick up into an embrace and settled him on his lap. “Hey there chum, what’re you doing in my room?”  
  
The boy buried his face into the crook of Bruce’s neck. “I was waiting for you,” Dick muttered sleepily. He nuzzled his nose into Bruce as his father checked Dick’s legs.  
  
Bruce frowned. “Dick, where are your braces? You have to wear them.”  
  
“No…,” the boy whined. “I don’t like them, they’re hard to get up in.”  
  
Bruce rocked the boy back and forth playfully as he brushed kisses all over Dick’s face. “You’ve got to, come on, you have a few more months before you get them off. We’ll go to the circus after that, I promise.”  
  
Dick scrunched up his face “That’s what you always say, but you’re always too busy.”  
  
Bruce felt his heart sink but continued keeping up his cuddling act. “This time I mean it. Now, let’s get those braces onto you.”  
  
Bruce walked to Dick’s bedroom to retrieve the hunky metal braces to clip back onto Dick. When he arrived back, Dick was doing a handstand against the wall.  
  
“Dick, what are you doing? Get down!”  
  
Dick pouted and landed gracefully back onto his two feet.  
  
Bruce shook his head and began clipping the braces onto Dick. “Where on Earth did you learn that from?”  
  
“Johnny showed that trick to me! He says that he does gymnastics and it looks awesome!” Dick chatted excited, “Daddy, can I do gymnastics too?”  
  
Bruce humphed and tightened the braces. “I don’t know Dick, it seems kind of dangerous.”  
  
“Pleaseee?” Dick asked, wrapping his arms around Bruce’s neck. Bruce made a mental note that Dick had an inclination of hugging people whenever begging for something.  
  
“Alright, after you get your braces off. I don’t want you messing up your feet,” Bruce sighed. He stood up and walked back to the bed. He noted that there was a sheet of copy paper and a pencil laying on the soft sheets. He picked up the sheet and observed it. The sheet had a tree on it with little boxes waiting to be filled in with ink.  
  
Bruce scanned it bemused and lifted it up to show Dick. “What’s this?”  
  
Dick shifted his weight from leg to leg. “Um… it’s a family tree. That’s why I was waiting for you here.”  
  
Bruce sat on the bed and patted the spot next to his side. “Alright, let’s talk about this, come here Dick,” Bruce said. Dick trudged over to the spot and leaned into Bruce’s side. Bruce wrapped his arm around Dick.  
  
“What’s a mother? What’s a grandpa and grandma? Why don’t I have one? What are aunts and uncles and cousins and siblings?” Dick got increasingly more and more frustrated and angry.  
  
“Hey, hey. It’s okay, Dick. Let’s talk this out okay?” Bruce nudged. Dick seemed to have calmed down a bit and nodded. “Let’s start with your mommy,” his finger shifted to the empty box. “Everyone has a mommy, whether they know her or not.”  
  
“Who’s my mommy, why don’t I have a mommy?” Dick whined.  
  
Bruce inhaled to keep himself leveled. “You have a mommy Dick, and you have another daddy too! They’re up there,” Bruce pointed to the ceiling.  
  
“I have another daddy? That’s awesome!” Dick cheered.  
  
Bruce smiled, tight lipped, happy to know that Dick was innocent to the reason why his biological mother and father were not currently here.  
  
“Daddy, do they love me?”  
  
Bruce tilted to head down to meet Dick’s eyes.  
  
“Yes, Dick. Very much.”  
  
Dick smiled, blinking sleepily.  
  
“Are you ready for bed, chum?”  
  
“No, I want to know about everyone else.”  
  
“Alright,” Bruce said, moving his finger further up the tree. “Here are your grandparents. Grandparents are the mommies and daddies of your mommy and daddy.”  
  
“Wow!” Dick’s eyes widened “They must be old!”  
  
Bruce teasingly tugged on Dick’s ear. “Are you calling me old?”  
  
“Yes!”  
  
Bruce stuck his tongue out at Dick and he prodded at Dick’s side. Dick giggled endlessly and batted at his father’s hands.  
  
“Daddy stop it!”  
  
Bruce smirked and pointed up to the large portrait across from the bed to the opposite wall. “Dick, pay attention. Do you know who those people are?”  
  
Martha and Thomas Wayne smiled through their eyes, dressed up classically in a suit and tie as well as a fancy dress with a boa. Their timeless, youthful eyes were so much more different from the empty, soulless ones Bruce remembered.  
  
“Daddy’s mommy and daddy!”  
  
“That’s right kiddo!”  
  
Bruce glanced over to see Dick prepared to fill out the spaces. “Daddy, what are Grandma and Grandpa’s names?”  
  
“Grandpa’s name is Thomas. T-H-O-M-A-S. Grandma’s name is Martha. M-A-R-T-H-A. There you go, atta boy,” Bruce reached out to ruffle Dick’s hair.  
  
Dick flipped over onto his back to look back up to his father. “Do Grandma and Grandpa love me?”  
  
Bruce’s mouth faltered for a second, before he caught himself. He will be strong for his son. “Of course they do.”  
  
“Can we visit them one day?” Dick asked. Bruce was silent for a couple of seconds. Dick frowned. “Daddy are you okay?”  
  
Bruce reached up to wipe at his eye with his arm. “Yeah, I’m okay.”  
  
Dick’s lower lip began to tremble and a tear began forming in the corner of his eye. “Daddy, why are you crying? Is it because your mommy and daddy live far away?”  
  
Bruce opened his mouth but all that came out was a sob. He covered his face with one of his hands. Dick placed his small hands on his arms in some sort of attempt to comfort. Bruce looked up to face Dick and the small boy immediately burst into tears.  
  
“Daddy, don’t cry. Don’t cry, Daddy. Is it because they hate me?” Dick blubbered, “Do you miss them? Is it because they won’t visit you because of me? I’m sorry Daddy, I’m really sorry.”  
  
Bruce’s heart hammered and he scooped Dick up in a tight embrace. He squeezed him really tight and let a few tears fall out of his eyes.  
  
“No, don’t apologize Dick. You’ve done nothing wrong. They don’t hate you. They love you, chum. I love you,” Bruce patted Dick’s back repetitively, “Don’t cry baby, they love you.”  
  
“Then why won’t they visit me? Why haven’t I met them?” Dick cried out.  
  
Bruce loosened Dick from his grip and gathered his face in his hands. Dick’s face had turned a darker shade of red than it originally was and his face was covered with tears and snot. His eyes had gone bloodshot but not at all overpowering the beauty of the child’s eyes. His little face was fixed in an expression that was halfway between a horrible shriek of terror and genuine frustration. Bruce’s heart broke in two when he saw how worked up Dick was over this issue.  
  
“Baby, listen to me, okay? They aren’t visiting because they can’t visit. Just like your mom and dad, they’re in a better place now, which is why we can’t visit them. We’ll make them happier if we stay here,” Bruce urgently said, “Are you listening, son? I don’t want you to think, EVER think that they aren’t here because of you!”  
  
Dick nodded frantically, his sobs quieting down but his warm tears continued to drip down his face. Bruce quickly kissed the top of his forehead and used his sleeves to pat away Dick’s tears.  
  
“I love you, okay? Don’t you forget that,” Bruce whispered. He took one look at Dick and could already tell that he was slipping away. His drying tears were overrun by new warm ones but his eyes grew swollen and were shutting close. He was slumped against the pillows, one second from falling into deep sleep.  
  
Bruce climbed over the small child to shut off the lights and jumped on the bed. He carefully drew Dick closer to him and flapped the heavy blankets over the two of them. He tucked Dick underneath his chin and drifted off into sleep.

  


  


Bruce woke up to the sound of sniffing and uneven breathing. Last night’s events returned back to him. He groaned and rolled over, fully expecting Dick to be crying over the aftermath of last night’s talk. Dick was still sleeping but each inhale he took was through his mouth and his nose made a whistling noise. Stuffy nose.  
  
Bruce sighed and stretched. The stuffy nose was probably from crying so much and hopefully not from being sick. He walked into the bathroom to quickly change his shirt and pants into a suit and tie as well as to style his hair for work. When he walked out, the child looked around blearily.  
  
“Good morning, chum,” Bruce briefly brushed the side of Dick’s face as he went to go look for his watch.  
  
Dick mumbled a greeting under his breath and yawned. His hair was tousled and his eyes were crusty because of the undried tears left over from yesterday, yet he couldn’t have looked more adorable.  
  
Bruce finally found his watch and prepared to say good-bye to Dick. He leaned over his child and pressed his lips against his hairline. “Go back to sleep Dick, it’s 6 in the morning. I’ll be back at the same time, don’t forget I love you.”  
  
Dick crawled back under the covers as Bruce lifted the blanket over him. He had passed through the door before he heard a small voice.  
  
“Daddy.”  
  
Bruce looked over his shoulder. “Chum?”  
  
Dick smiled in his classic lopsided grin and blinked sleepily. “I lu’ you.”  
  
Bruce simply nodded at him and turned around. He didn’t want to confuse Dick again with even more tears.


	6. Circus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I apologize for this chapter. I really didn't have any inspiration to write, but I needed a segway chapter to get into a more interesting part of the story. It's super short but mostly because I didn't want to mess anything up. :'), enjoy?

One hand around the child’s waist and another hand pulling his shirt back, Bruce wanted to show Dick the landscape, but didn’t want him to fall out of the train window. Dick tried to climb onto the window sill but Bruce tugged him back into the car and Dick fell backwards onto his lap.  
  
Bruce pointed a finger out at Dick, “No, no, Dick. We don’t climb out of windows and become human pancakes, understand?”  
  
Dick smirked and wiggled around on his lap. “It just looks really pretty, Daddy,” Dick said as he rolled around onto his stomach. He sat up and pointed out the window, “Look, we’re so high up that there are clouds!”  
  
Bruce ruffled his son’s hair, “Those aren’t clouds chum, that’s fog.”  
  
Dick looked up at Bruce, eyes sparkling. “Fock,” Dick repeated.  
  
Bruce nearly choked on his champagne, “No Dick, fog. F. O. G.”  
  
“Fock.”  
  
Bruce sighed and rubbed his eyes as he took another drink from his glass. Dick cackled and buried his face into Bruce’s soft, green turtleneck.  
  
“Daddy, I want a friend.”  
  
Bruce frowned and looked down at Dick, “Don’t you have friends at school?”  
  
Dick wrapped his tiny arms around Bruce’s thick neck. He leaned into his ear and whispered, “Daddy, your breath smells.” Bruce rolled his eyes and playfully pushed Dick off his lap into the seat next to him.  
  
“All the kids at school are mean,” Dick continued, pouting, “They made fun of my braces.”  
  
Bruce thought for a moment before placing an arm around Dick’s shoulder. “They made fun of your braces?”  
  
“Yeah!” Dick said, spitting all over the table, “I brought my pictures to school for show and tell and everyone said that I was weird!”  
  
His father frowned, “Did your teacher do anything about that?”  
  
Dick slouched, his frown deepened. “Yeah, she got mad but then everyone turned mean.” He flipped over onto his stomach and peered curiously at Bruce’s face. “Daddy, can I have a little brother?”  
  
Bruce choked on his beverage and hastily wiped his mouth on his handkerchief, not wanting to ruin the sleeve of his new trench coat.  
  
“You want what?”  
  
Dick leaned against his chest and widened his eyes to give Bruce the most adorable set of puppy eyes he had ever seen. “Please Daddy! Please! I want a brother, I’ll be a good older brother to him!”  
  
Bruce felt the corner of his mouth lift up slightly, “You know you can’t get rid of your brother when you get mad at him, right?”  
  
“Daddy! I’ll love him forever! I swear!”  
  
Bruce sighed. Dick was already enough to handle, he didn’t know if he could handle another monkey. Sure, it would be such a blessing to have another baby, but he wasn’t sure if he could handle it.  
  
“Please! Daddy, I’m so lonely! I just want someone to play with!”  
  
“Dick, a brother isn’t just someone to play with! He needs to be someone you love and take care of too!”  
  
“I promise that I’ll love him! I’ll take care of him!”  
  
“He’s not a dog either, you can’t just pet him and give him food. He’ll grow up into a boy one day and you two will fight over and over again!”  
  
“It’s okay! I’ll still love him!”  
  
Bruce wondered how the scene would look to outside viewers. A boy on his father’s lap, begging him with tears in his eyes, for another baby, a brother. The father, urgently resisting, naming all sorts of responsibilities the boy would have to deal with when he grew older. The father, giving the little boy facts and scenarios that he would have to deal with when he got a brother. Yet, here was the child, willing to do anything to have a friend, a brother. Bruce swallowed the lump away from his throat.  
  
“Okay, okay,” Bruce sighed, “I’ll think about it.”  
  
Dick squealed and began running around the train room and jumping up and down for joy.  
  
“Thank you, daddy! Thank you!”  
  
Bruce watched as his little boy zoomed out of the room, informing everyone sitting down in their train seats that he would be having a little brother zoom. All of the strangers swooned from the charismatic grin the cute little boy gave them, even some offering candy and head rubs in congratulations.  
  
It would be nice, Bruce decided. To have one little one in his heart. He could imagine cradling his brand new son in his arms and singing lullabies to him and Dick. He could imagine Dick falling asleep by his side and the baby sleepily yawning.  
  
“Next stop, Mount Herold! Stop by for the new attraction: Haly’s Circus.”

  


  


“Daddy, I’m scared,” Dick shrunk back as the elephant’s trunk gently brushed his cheek. Bruce chuckled and edged him a bit forward.  
  
“She’s okay, she won’t hurt you,” Bruce said, rubbing his back.  
  
The elephant trainer nodded in agreement. “Here,” she walked towards the edge of the fence, appearing with a bag of peanuts. “Why don’t you try to feed her?”  
  
Dick grabbed the peanuts and poured some onto his hands. His hand trembled as he reached out to the elephant. Bruce raised his eyebrows as Dick turned his head to look away and began to cry.  
  
“Hey, Dickie. It’s okay, don’t cry. She won’t hurt you.”  
  
“Daddy, I’m scared. What if she bites me?”  
  
“She won’t- there Dickie, you see that? She’s being gentle with you.  
  
Dick slowly opened his eyes into a squint and watched as the elephant gently brushed its trunk against his hand to scoop up the peanuts into her mouth. Dick giggled as the elephant nudged its trunk against his arm, seemingly asking for more food.  
  
“It tickles,” Dick said, breaking the silence. His hand hovered over her trunk, wanting to pet the elephant. The elephant bumped her trunk up to his hand, causing Dick to giggle harder.  
  
“She likes you,” the trainer grinned, petting the elephant as well. “Her name’s Zitka.”  
  
“Zitka,” Dick said, breathlessly. Bruce could see the total awe written all over the child’s face as he began to pet its brown, leathery skin.  
  
The elephant wrapped its trunk around Dick’s body, pushing him closer to her. Dick met eye to eye with the friendly giant.  
  
“Hi.” The elephant made a low trumpet noise in response.  
  
“What’s your name kid?” The trainer asked.  
  
“I’m Dick,” Dick giggled breathlessly as Zitka’s enormous ears flapped, blowing a soft gust of wind through his hair.  
  
The trainer hummed in curiosity. Bruce narrowed his eyes, keeping an eye on the woman.  
  
“You look familiar,” she quipped. “You sure you’re not from around here?”  
  
Bruce cleared his throat, the woman looked back up to him in an almost keen like gaze. Her green eyes spoke volumes of generosity but poison, sharp and intelligent. Her dark brown hair fell at hip length and her walk was bold, confident but also as sly as a snake curling over a victim’s throat, threatening to squeeze.  
  
Bruce was suddenly afraid to speak when he gushed out. “His parents were acrobats in a circus, perhaps you know them? I heard the circus community is quite small.”  
  
The woman hummed and stretched her legs out. “I may have known them, do you know their names?”  
  
“Perhaps you’ve heard of Mary and John Grayson?”  
  
The woman made an ah-ha sound, slyly watching Dick lean over the fence to call Zitka to come back. She turned back to Bruce before explaining. “You’ve come to the right circus.”  
  
Bruce felt in shock, how was it, that he had just so HAPPENED to arrive at the circus where Dick was from?  
  
“Come with me, I bet everyone here would want to see Dick”. The woman scooped Dick off the fence and began chatting with him, placing her on his hip. Bruce tagged behind, feeling a little bit left out.  
  
Circus performers were moving, left and right, preparing for tonight's show. People lugging ladders, poles and unpacking seats, all in a rush. The smells of food cart popcorn and halal filled the air, making Bruce salivate.  
  
They stopped at a clearing where there was a train parked on the train track. Employees were still unloading their materials off the vehicle as a round man stood in the middle, shouting orders and pointing his finger at areas all over the place.  
  
The woman tapped on the man’s back and lifted Dick higher onto her hip to present to the old man. The man’s mouth dropped open as he laughed and scooped the boy into his arms, squeezing his cheeks and holding the boy close to his body. Bruce approached them cautiously, not wanting to disrupt a reunion.  
  
“My dear boy! You look just like your mother!” The man laughed.  
  
“You knew my mommy?” Dick squealed against his body.  
  
“I’ve known both your Mom and Dad for a long time! Come, we have much to talk about!”

  


  


“Daddy,” Dick murmured sleepily on the seat next to him.  
  
Bruce hummed, “You have fun?”  
  
“Yeah,” Dick sighed and turned over onto his side. Bruce sighed and placed down his newspaper. Dick had been quiet ever since they left the circus, originally Bruce thought that the sugar and the excitement must have gotten to his head to make him crash, but now perhaps it was something more.  
  
“You okay, baby?” Bruce asked as he brushed his hands into Dick’s locks. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“Can I visit them one day?” Bruce placed a kiss on the crown of Dick’s skull.  
  
“Of course sweetheart.”  
  
“Thanks Dad.”


	7. Shock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, this is where the story takes quite a dark turn. There's a lot of trigger warnings to be had here, but this is by far one of my favorite chapters I've written so far. I really hope you enjoy! I wrote it while I was half awake. It's also the longest chapter I've written for this fic so far.
> 
> Triggers come as followed:  
> \- mentioned child abuse: (starts at "The social worker had mentioned" and ends at "for two entire days.")  
> \- eating disorder (binging): (starts at "Perhaps Jason had" and ends at "his lower lip protruding")  
> \- vomiting: (starts at "I need to frow up" and ends at "at least it wasn't the carpet this time")  
> \- drugs (during pregnancy): (starts at "“I had always hoped" and ends at my baby can’t fight for himself.”)  
> \- death and blood: (starts at “I love him, Bruce! and ends at the end)

“No. No way!”  
  
“I’m sorry Mr.Wayne, you mentioned that your son had absolutely settled upon this boy. This boy has separation anxiety, I can’t say much except that unless you adopt Cassandra, he’ll be affected by trauma,” Ms.Fischer pointed with her pen at the pictures presented on the table. Bruce sighed and put his head in his hands. Twins… twins? How does that sound, Bruce? He thought to himself.  
  
“Is there… anyway to work around this?”  
  
Ms. Fischer frowned and began shoving her papers inside her files. “If you can’t put the child’s needs first, you are unfit to adopt this child. I don’t mean to be brazen, but you are more than fit financially to take on another two children. Not to mention a second hand,”  
  
“Wait… wait, Ms. Fischer, sit down please.” Bruce sighed, he could feel a migraine coming on. “Let’s talk this over one more time.”

  


  


“TWO?!” Dick shouted in the middle of the ballroom. Bruce looked around at the other benefactors at the gala and glared at Dick.  
  
“Dick! What did I tell you about inside voices?”  
  
“Sorry Dad! Next time I won’t freak out about GETTING A SISTER AND BROTHER.” Dick whispered-screamed, excitedly.  
  
A voice cleared from behind them and Bruce quickly turned around to greet the young couple.  
  
“Janet, Jack,” Bruce smiled and shook their hands. “Dick, this is Mr. and Mrs. Drake.”  
  
“Hello,” Dick said shyly, hiding behind Bruce.  
  
Janet leaned down as much as she could and took out her hand to shake Dick’s. Dick took her hand and squeezed lightly. Bruce began to discuss business and stocks with the couple when he turned around and caught Dick staring.  
  
“Dick, it’s rude to stare, apologize to Mr. and Mrs. Drake,” Bruce said, gritting his teeth.  
  
Dick looked up to Janet who began to feel uncomfortable under Dick’s gaze. “Yes dear?” Janet asked, tugging on her pearls.  
  
“Are you going to have a baby?” Dick asked out loud, pointing at Janet’s swollen stomach. Janet’s hands flew to her stomach and Bruce forcefully pushed Dick’s hand down.  
  
“Dick, it’s impolite to point! We’re going to have a little talk when we get back home” Bruce turned to Janet. “I’m so sorry, Janet.”  
  
Janet chuckled a little and brushed the back of her hand against Dick’s face. “It’s alright, Bruce.”  
  
She knelt down as much as she could with her stomach and dress. “You’re right, Dick! I’m going to be having a baby soon.”  
  
Dick stared at her in wonder, “What’s its name?”  
  
Janet shot a glare at Jack, who raised his eyebrows and shrugged. She took Dick’s left hand in her own. “He doesn’t have a name yet.”  
  
Bruce peered curiously, “Do you have any name suggestions?”  
  
Janet hummed, “For now, we have Christopher, Michael, Alexander and Timothy on the list.”  
  
Dick grinned, showing off his missing front tooth. “I like Alexander and Timothy, you can make a lot of nicknames with those two.”  
  
The woman chuckled, “I like those names too.” She cleared her throat, meeting Dick’s eyes with her own. “Do you want to hear him?”  
  
The boy’s mouth fell open. “Really? I can?” Dick leaned his ear and rested his head on Janet’s stomach.  
  
Bruce turned to Jack, “When’s the due date?”  
  
Jack sighed, “July 13th, he could come late or early. We’re not too sure.”  
  
Bruce chuckled, “Only in a few weeks! You’re going to be a father my old friend!” The two laughed together, turning back to watch the boy in awe with the process of pregnancy.  
  
“I can’t hear anything,” Dick said, pouting a bit. Janet ruffled Dick’s hair.  
  
“He’s very quiet, sometimes he worries me because he’s TOO quiet. But I’d like to think that he’s just thinking a lot.”  
  
Dick laughed and pressed a hand to Janet’s stomach. He leaned close and whispered, “I can’t wait to see you Timmy, grow up big and strong.”  
  
Janet slowly got up, with the help of Dick and thanked him for the wishes he granted to the little baby.  
  
“Where’s Selina?” Jack asked curiously.  
  
Bruce sighed and rubbed his eyes, “We actually broke up the engagement a few weeks ago.”  
  
Jack and Janet looked at each other, alarmed.  
  
“What do you mean broke up?” Janet stuttered.  
  
“We didn’t think that we were ready for marriage, we were fighting a lot and it wasn’t going to be good for the kids so we took a break.” Bruce explained, rubbing the back of her neck.  
  
Jack drank a sip of a glass of the sangria that a server offered to him. “I’m so sorry… I heard about the new kids?”  
  
Bruce sighed, “Yeah, we’re taking in a boy and a girl. Both are three, the girl is Cassandra and the boy is Jason.”  
  
Jack laughed, “I could never stand taking care of so many children. I could never understand the stress of doing so.”  
  
“You’ll learn once the little one arri- RICHARD GRAYSON-WAYNE, GET DOWN FROM THAT CHANDELIER NOW!”

  


///////////// - 2 weeks later

  


“Food… food…” Jason mumbled, grabbing for the chicken thigh on the large platter in front of him. Bruce quickly dabbed the corner of his mouth with the napkin and quickly placed the thigh on Jason’s plate in front of him. He could see from the corner of his eye, Alfred raising an eyebrow.  
  
“Master Bruce, perhaps you’d like to consider the fact that you are overfeeding him?”  
  
Bruce turned his eyes to gaze at the plate in front of Jason. The plate had bones stacked on top of each other and gravy was splattered all over the high chair. That didn’t even match up to the scoops of vegetables Jason had possibly eaten. Wasn’t Jason full? Surely a three year old’s stomach could not be that big.  
  
In fact, Jason looked green and unwell in general. Yet, he was crying for more food. Bruce sighed and pushed the plate of bones away from Jason. Almost immediately, Jason began to throw a tantrum. The screaming, crying and wailing filled the dining room and the hallways.  
  
Dick turned from trying to feed Cass some bread to look at Bruce; annoyance was written all over his face.  
  
“Okay, kid. Up you go,” Bruce hoisted Jason up off the high chair and began walking down the hallway to their new nursery room. Jason couldn’t stand being away from Cass for more than five minutes. In fact, Bruce had to make sure that their beds were aligned so they could meet each other’s eyes.  
  
He was hoping that the first week would be a breeze like how it did with Dick. Instead, he got a little tornado jumping on sofas and breaking vases and a statue that would rather wait five hours in a completely soaked diaper than say anything.  
  
The social worker had mentioned that both Cass and Jason were collected from abusive households. Cass was found in a junkyard, suffocating in a jug of milk that her guardian had stuffed her in. She had multiple lacerations and burns on her body and her parents were nowhere to be seen. She was afraid of speaking to strangers, barely having said more than 5 words in the first month she stayed at the foster center. Her speech development was slower than a normal child’s, having only said such a few words, Bruce wasn’t sure if Cass could even form full sentences.  
  
Jason was found when his guardians’ landlord showed up at his apartment to demand them to pay up. When there was no response, the landlord decked the crap out of the door and found Jason sitting in the middle of the ratty apartment covered in feces and piss. His parents were in the bathroom, both had OD’d by accident and left Jason without food and water for two entire days.  
  
Perhaps Jason had an eating disorder, Bruce suddenly thought. It would explain his need for eating copious amounts of food and speaking of which-  
  
“Jason, give that to me,” Bruce ordered, holding his hand out. Jason turned around and sprinted down the hallway. Of course, Bruce had already caught up to him and lifted him off the ground, digging into Jason’s pockets to find chunks of brussel sprouts, chicken, peas and steak all hidden inside.  
  
Jason cried in betrayal and began punching Bruce over and over again, demanding his treasures be given back immediately.  
  
Bruce calmly took a breath in and remembered his research on food preoccupation. “Jason,” Bruce said lightly, “You don’t need this, we’ll give you food when you want it.” Jason continued bawling his eyes out, reaching to grab for the bits of food that remained, his lower lip protruding.  
  
“Come here, chum. We’ll have a snack when you’ve calmed down okay?” Bruce rubbed Jason’s back. Jason had stopped crying but was still sniffling.  
  
“I need to frow up,” Jason whispered. Bruce quickly scooped Jason up and ran over to the bathroom connected to the hallway.  
  
Bruce held Jason over the bathroom toilet; he projectile vomited all over the sides of the bowl and onto the seat of the toilet. Bruce sighed once again, at least it wasn’t the carpet this time.

  


  


“Cass, sweetie, please don’t play with that,” Bruce kept a steady voice as he rushed over to Cass who was playing the knife game that Dick had shown her earlier that day. Cass held a steady gaze, challenging Bruce when she turned her back on him and continued to stab at the empty spaces in between her fingers, getting faster and faster as time progressed.  
  
“Young lady,” Bruce scolded, confiscating the knife.  
  
“Perhaps this would be of use, Master Bruce,” Alfred walked in holding up multiple combination locks.  
  
Bruce felt a wave of relief washing through his body. “Okay, okay,” Bruce mumbled in response.  
  
“I have six drawers in the kitchen that have potentially dangerous objects in them and I plan on using multiple locks for each one,” Alfred stated, beginning to unlock each one and hooking them onto each drawer knob.  
  
“Is there anything I can help for dinner tonight?” Bruce asked, offering his services. Tossing salad looked easy enough to do by himself.  
  
Alfred breezed past him to block Cass from reaching the Foreman Grill, “Master Bruce stay away from my kitchen, that’s my final warning. I will not tolerate any nonsense in this kitchen ESPECIALLY since we have guests coming over tonight.”  
  
Bruce silently nodded and picked Cass up by the armpits and walked her upstairs. The entire hallway had begun to smell heavenly with the blossoming of an assortment of flowers Alfred had planted earlier that year. The summer heat had released all of these beautiful scents, gardenia, jasmine, hyacinth, wisteria and even more scents that had blended all together into a symphony.  
  
Cass was set down and she immediately looked up to Bruce. She pointed to her nose. “Smell,” was all Cass said.  
  
Bruce almost gasped, this was the first time he had heard Cass’s voice and it was beautiful. Maintaining his composure, he nodded and smiled, “Yes, it smells lovely doesn’t it?”  
  
Bruce held his daughter by her hand and led her to an immense balcony at the end of the hallway. The marble floor was burning hot to the touch, so Bruce grabbed a rug and placed it over the floor. The father motioned his daughter to sit behind him.  
  
Cass peered through the balcony edge but then immediately toddled back to Bruce, her body shaking.  
  
“Is it too tall?” Bruce asked in a slightly teasing manner.  
  
“Tall,” was all she answered.  
  
Bruce and Cass sat together for a while in the quiet, before Bruce leaned over to the brick wall of the manor and picked a tangerine beauty off of its vine. He carefully placed it on Cass’s ear and draped a piece of hair over it.  
  
“There,” Bruce said, “You look like a princess.”  
  
Cass giggled and hid her face against Bruce’s body. Bruce brought Cass closer in a hug and stroked her soft, black hair.  
  
Their peace and quiet was subsequently ruined by the noise of a car parking in the driveway. Bruce peered through the balcony fence to watch the Drakes climb out of their car.  
  
“Jack, please stop smoking in front of me.”  
  
“Woman, I can do whatever I want.”  
  
“It’s bad for the baby!”  
  
Bruce shook his head in both disappointment and amusement and walked with Cass downstairs to greet the Drakes.

  


Janet rubbed her lower back and sighed as Bruce began to cut the ham to place on everyone’s plate. Dick had opted to sit right next to her, hoping to cuddle with the baby again. Janet had chuckled to herself, Dick would be a good older brother to Jason and Cassandra.  
  
“Are you having the baby?” Dick asked curiously.  
  
Janet laughed, “No, no, this is completely normal. Don’t worry, I won’t be having a baby right now.” Janet had been having harsh Braxton-Hicks contractions non-stop for the past 26 hours, though the thought of being in actual labor was still on the back of her mind.  
  
“Janet, would you like to have some cranberry sauce?” Bruce’s voice brought her out of her mind. She eagerly nodded, ready to dig into Alfred’s delicious cooking.  
  
Janet tied her hair back into a ponytail and was ready to cut a piece of ham, when a silent gush of liquid ran down her pants. Janet gasped out of surprise and looked up at the other two adults.  
  
“Janet, are you okay?” Bruce asked out of concern.  
  
“I-I think, my water just broke.”  
  
The two males immediately pushed their chairs back and rushed her over to the front door. Bruce immediately started the car and opened the door for the younger couple to climb into.  
  
Janet felt a hot iron band wrap across her lower body and she cried out in pain.

  


  


Bruce stared at the little human in front of him. Bruce had never seen a NEW-newborn baby before. It was so wrinkly, red and, to be honest, kind of scary. Timothy Jackson Drake, was born on July 19th at 19:17. 6 pounds, 7.5 oz and 17 inches, smaller than the average baby but perfectly healthy.  
  
Born bald, a set of healthy lungs but stuck in an incubator for an indefinite amount of time. Baby Tim Drake was born without a spleen, being more susceptible to infections and bacteria especially in a hospital and being a brand new human being. There was a big possibility he wouldn’t be able to make it. Perhaps the new technology and methods being used in modern day would help his chances, but he was still a newborn with no spleen.  
  
Bruce wasn’t sure what to do. Should he congratulate the couple on their new baby? Or give condolences because the chances of their son surviving were extremely low?  
  
“My baby,” Janet Drake whispered next to Bruce, staring through the glass. Her voice fogged up the window and her fingers left fingerprints on the glass. She was in a wheelchair, attempting to heal from the traumatic birth she had just experienced. Jack was going to join her, but he ran downstairs to the cafeteria to get coffee for both of them instead.  
  
“He’s beautiful,” Bruce noted.  
  
Janet nodded fiercely. Bruce hadn’t noticed until now, but Janet’s eyes were baggy and her lips were chapped and ashy. Her current skin tone was also an ashy version of Janet’s original skin color and her skin was covered with sweat. Bruce had always thought that Janet Drake’s head was in the clouds 24/7, that it would be incapable for her to take care of a child properly because of her obsession with social ladder climbing. However, seeing her get worked up over the possibility of death over her new son, brought a lot of perspective to Bruce's opinion of her.  
“His toes look like Nerds,” Bruce added. Janet laughed softly and bit her lip, watching her son wiggle around in the incubator.  
  
“He’s so pretty. So damned pretty, Bruce.”  
  
The harsh light flickered, casting a hopeless, dooming feel to the corridor. This hospital wing was already harrowing, filled with many ill quarantined in their own rooms with visitors not being able to hold hands with their loved ones, only subjected to look through a glass window that gave a false impression that they were still together.  
  
“He looks like a fairy. Look at his little ears and his eyelashes are so long!” Janet whispered, “I wonder who he takes after.”  
  
Bruce looked closely before deciding, “He has your nose and your face shape. He has Jack’s ears and eyes.”  
  
“Timothy is perfect,” Janet closed her eyes and breathed deeply in, “I had always hoped that he wouldn’t be born messed up. Jack had been smoking indoors throughout the pregnancy, I couldn't escape it, it followed him wherever he went. Now, there is a cost, my baby can’t fight for himself.”  
  
Bruce patted her arm. “It’s alright Janet, he’s in good hands.”  
  
“I know.” Janet began to stand up to get a better look at Tim. "I want a better look at his pretty face."  
  
Bruce attempted to usher Janet back down onto the chair. “He’ll be yours soon enough, I’m sure of it.”  
  
Janet gasped and clutched at her heart, “Bruce, it’s nothing like I’ve ever felt before! I’ve never felt about anyone this way! Ever!”  
  
"This is what love truly is, it took me so long to figure it out! I've been so deprived of it!"  
  
She spun around, looking crazily into Bruce’s soul. Bruce was about to open his mouth to ask her what was wrong when she interrupted him.  
  
“My baby! My very own Timothy Drake! I love him, Bruce! I think I love him!”  
  
Suddenly, Janet collapsed onto the floor. The hallway interrupted into chaos, many asking for hospital employees to get help, while others crowded around Janet to see what had happened.  
  
Bruce felt panicked, he shook her arm attempting to revive her in some lame attempt.  
  
“Janet, Janet. You’ve got to wake up.”  
  
He was pushed aside by some employees who had rushed to wheel in a gurney to place her on. Everything else was a blur, people weaved in and out of the crowd in panic, Jack Drake demanding to see his wife, medical professionals coming to inform him that she had passed away from maternal sepsis.  
  
All Bruce could see were the streams of blood running down Janet’s bare calves and Tim Drake, blissfully unaware of the chaos that had just ensued.


	8. Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just finished reading Heroes in Crisis and I just- ugh, I want to cry! I love how DC touched on mental health and trauma during that comic arc, it really touched something in me.  
> Anyways: here's the long awaited chapter. No beta, obviously and it might not be exactly coherent, but I struggled a lot with this chapter because I tried incorporating my feelings into it and the mind is an abstract being.  
> PLEASE NOTE THE NEW TAGS  
> If you are triggered by: Mental Health, Self-Esteem, Eating Disorders (Binge Eating) and Self Harm. PLEASE TURN AWAY. This entire chapter is one big trigger if you are triggered by any of this. I'll add a summary in the next chapter's summary (as to not spoil anything) for those of you who wanted to skip this. Please comment on my next chapter if I forget! Thank you and enjoy!

“Barbara, come play with us!” Dick whined as he pulled on her ankle.  
  
Barbara lolled her head over in Dick’s direction and rolled her eyes. She smirked and moved her foot back onto the sofa and went back to her magazine.  
  
She twisted her hair around her finger and played with her anklet with her toes.  
  
“Go away Dick, hang out people your age.”  
  
Dick scowled and bounded away to look for his little siblings. Apparently, the moment Barbara turned ten, she was suddenly way too old to hang out with the “babies” anymore. Just wait until Dick turned ten.  
  
He skipped and hopped against the carpeted floor and opened his ears to try and hear Jason’s screaming or Cass’s dance party music playing. All he heard was nothing. Then Dick suddenly remembered that his father was sleeping in so he ran across the hall to give him a surprise tickle attack.  
  
He crept against the carpet floor and peered into Bruce’s room. Just as Dick remembered. Bruce slept on his back with his mouth wide open, snoring loudly as he woke up the heavens. His blanket was kicked over towards the end of the bed, only covering the bottom portion of his feet.  
  
Little Cass slept on Bruce’s right side, her long black hair tangled up on the white sheets. She sucked on her thumb and was curled up against Bruce’s side. Jason on the other hand was sprawled out on Bruce’s left side, snoring as loudly as his father. His bed hair was messy and nowhere near as angelic as Cass’s. Bruce had a hand on Jason’s cheek, which smushed against the child’s face.  
  
Dick felt a twinge of jealousy watching his two younger siblings cuddle with Bruce. He couldn’t even remember the last time he got to hug Bruce without Cass or Jason around. He gloomily watched them sleeping, but brightened at a sudden thought.  
  
He jumped onto the bed, aiming himself between Bruce and Jason (those acrobatic classes were coming in handy). He landed right on top of Jason and his hand smacked against Bruce’s jaw.  
  
He rubbed his face against Bruce’s chest and wrapped his arms around his father’s neck. Jason woke up startled and began crying from fear at the unnatural weight lying on top of him.  
  
“Da-Daddy!” Jason screamed.  
  
Bruce proceeded to wake up, letting out a loud yawn. He quickly turned over from the sound of one of his children crying.  
  
He pushed himself up, leading Dick to let go, and leapt over the side of the bed to scoop Jason up from danger.  
  
Bruce looked up to glare at Dick, “You were crushing him!” Dick watched as Bruce coddled Jason, giving him kisses and bouncing him on his hip to stop him from crying.  
  
Dick felt tears crawling to the corner of his eyes. This wasn’t fair! Bruce had him first! Dick curled his right hand into fist and brought it down against Cass’s side. Cass shot awake and stared straight at Dick’s eyes. She had a ten second delay and then began to cry from the impact she took from Dick’s fist.  
  
Cass ran away from him to Bruce’s side, who scooped her up and attempted to calm both children. Bruce turned to Dick furiously.  
  
“Go to your room! I don’t want to see you today!”  
  
Dick hung his head and began to walk towards the doorway. He kicked the door open, hard and ran up to the highest floor of Wayne Manor. Perhaps he had been too harsh on Jason and Cass.  
  
His shoulders slumped over. He was supposed to be the older sibling, the responsible one! Yet he had been the most immature one out of them all, throwing a tantrum because his father wouldn’t give him enough attention.  
  
He crossed his arms and went to go find a hiding space. He strided over to a broom closet that he knew hadn’t been opened in a while. It was decked top to bottom with towels, blankets and comforters and was big enough for Dick to hide in. So he did.  
  
Dick didn’t deserve their pity, didn’t deserve their forgiveness. He groaned and put his head in between his legs. It hurt to wallow in self pity, to know that his family would probably hate him for the rest of their lives, even his father and Alfred. It hurt to be by himself. It hurt to be sent to his room. It hurt to be a disappointment.  
  
But for some reason, Dick liked the disappointment. It felt good to be hurt and it felt good to pity himself. Dick smiled as he cried to himself. Crying felt nice too.  
  
Bruce had been planning a New Year’s dinner for some of his friends including the Gordons, Uncle Clark and a few others. He could hear Bruce downstairs letting people into the manor. Probably a few elites. Maybe the Drakes too. Dick perked up a little at the idea of seeing the new baby.  
  
No, he had to stay away. He would hurt the little Drake too. He couldn’t let anyone into this little cupboard, he would ruin everyone. So, Dick would stay here, not coming out for food or drink or using the bathroom. Let Bruce and Alfred search all over for him, he wasn’t going anywhere.  
  
Poor little Cass and Jason, Dick wondered if their bodies were covered in bruises now. He could almost hear them crying. Damn it, they deserved better than him, he was the worst, Dick was sure of it.  
  
As much as Dick wanted to be alone, to contain the contamination into one small area, he really wouldn’t mind a hug. Just one small pat on the back would be nice too, he quietly thought to himself.  
  
His mind was silent, so silent that he could hear a pin drop. But he didn’t even deserve that did he? No, the voice in his head snarled at him, no you really don’t. You’re the worst you know? Everyone would like you a lot better if you were-.  
  
Dick slammed his head against the wooden wall. He slammed it again. Then again. Then harder and faster. Over and over again, in a monotonous, macabre sort of manner. Almost like the repetitive beat of drums during some sort of ceremony.  
  
He wasn’t doing it hard enough. Soon, he was slamming his head in both ends, the front and back. Until finally, he could feel liquid dripping down the side of his mouth. He touched it curiously. It was thick and sticky. It was coming from his nose. Had he made his nose bleed?  
  
“Dick?” a small voice called.  
  
The closet door opened with a slam and Dick gasped. He turned around to see Cass looking horrified. No, Dick couldn’t bear to let her see him like this. He couldn’t be weak and immature again.  
  
“Get out.”  
  
Cass frowned and tried to reach out to touch Dick’s face. “Dick-”  
  
“GET OUT! I SAID GET OUT CASS! LEAVE ME ALONE!”  
Cass scrambled and ran as fast as she could away from her brother. Dick slammed the door shut behind her and began sobbing even harder. He couldn’t do this anymore, he hated himself so much.  
  
He started up again, slamming himself against the closet door, harder and harder. Taking a shuddering breath one after another and feeling blood drip from his nose to his mouth and off his chin. Tasting the coppery syrup on the tip of his tongue. Wishing he were somehow-  
  
Light flooded into the closet as arms grabbed at him from within the closet and pulled into a tight embrace.  
  
“Baby, don’t do that ever again.” Bruce whispered into his ear. He stroked the top of Dick’s head. Dick felt revolted by the fact that anyone would ever touch him.  
  
“Don’t touch me, stranger!”  
  
His father pulled away and stared at Dick’s face with horror. Dick wondered how he looked to Bruce. Bloodied and puffy face. Bruised forehead and snot dripping everywhere. Wondering, where, where Dick had somehow gone wrong. When did Dick become so messed up?  
  
Bruce’s brows furrowed and he opened his mouth. Dick flinched away, assuming that he was about to get the spanking of his life.  
  
“You’re bleeding.”  
  
Bruce reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, the one that Uncle Clark got for his birthday. He cupped the back of Dick’s head and brought it close to Bruce. He shook out the handkerchief and pinched his child’s nose with it.  
  
“Keep your head down, if you lean your head up, you can throw up blood.” Dick nodded absentmindedly.  
  
Bruce rubbed the lower part of Dick’s back. “You know if you keep that up, you can fail school?”  
  
Dick cackled at that, remembering the time when Bruce made a comment about losing brain cells when Jason whammed into the wall head first during a tantrum. Then he remembered Jason. And Cass. And the closet. Then Dick burst into tears.  
  
Bruce held one of his arms out and Dick graciously crawled into his arm and onto his lap and cried hard.  
  
“Do you want to tell me why you’re crying?”  
  
“I just really don’t want to fail math.”  
  
His father kissed the crown of his head and kissed him repeatedly all over the face. His cheeks, his hairline, his forehead, his temple. Bruce gave one last kiss onto his nose.  
  
Bruce smiled at him, “That’s how much I love you.” Dick cried even harder and cuddled closer to Bruce.  
  
“I’m sorry, Dad. I’m really sorry.”  
  
“What you did was wrong, you have to apologize to Jason and Cass. I’m not mad anymore, okay?” Bruce murmured as he rubbed Dick’s back.  
  
“Okay,” Dick sniffled.  
  
They sat in silence, just holding each other, when the dinner bell rang downstairs. Bruce and Dick looked at each other in acknowledgement. They both got up and Bruce placed a hand on Dick’s cheek.  
  
“You know you can tell me anything right?”  
  
Dick nodded solemnly.  
  
“Don’t be afraid of telling me anything. I love you regardless.”  
  
“I know,” Dick murmured.  
  
Bruce nodded and they both began to head down together.  
  
“You know the Drake’s new baby, Tim is here today right?”  
  
Dick grinned, skipping, “I heard he’s cute!”  
  
“Yes he is.”  
  
Dick skipped, jumping from one side of the hallway to the other. Maybe one day he’ll be able to tell Bruce the truth. He wasn’t ready.

  


\----------------------------------------------------- 

  


“I was going to eat that!” Jason whined as he swiped at his stolen chili dog.  
  
“I want it!” Dick screeched as he began to climb up the big oak tree.  
  
“Alfie made it for me!”  
  
Dick climbed onto one of the higher tree branches and swung upside down. “You don’t need any more food! You’re fat!”  
  
Jason scowled. He placed his chubby hands on either side of the tree trunk and began to paw on the trunk with his feet in an attempt to climb. “I’m not fat!”  
  
His older brother stuck out a tongue at him, “Yes you are! You’re fat, fat, fat and you’re one MORE ‘fat’ to become obeet!”  
  
“I’m not obeet!” The younger one screamed indignantly, he hoisted himself as far as he could so he could reach one of the lower branches.  
  
“Yes you are!”  
  
“Am not!”  
  
“Am too!”  
  
“Am not!”  
  
“Shut up!” Cass screamed from the other side of the garden, she had previously been scavenging for lady bugs all across the Wayne Manor property to create a ladybug farm. Her hair was braided into two little pigtails with blue ribbons attached at the ends. Obviously Selina’s doing.  
  
“Nya, nya. See? Even Cass doesn’t want to talk to you!” Dick teased, watching Jason trying to reach the second branch.  
  
“That’s not true!” Jason cried out, tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. “Cass you like me right?”  
  
Cass merely grunted as she used the magnifying glass that Bruce had bought her yesterday and combed the grass using her hands.  
  
“See…? No one likes you, poopy head.” Dick whistled as he popped his p’s. He took a big bite out of the chili dog, resulting in Jason to growl under his breath.  
  
Dick smirked as he turned to Jason as he took another bite. “Mm, this is really good. This is payback for stealing my carrots.”  
  
Jason took a deep breath and lunged. He grabbed Dick by the ankle, causing his older brother to scream in terror and drop from the branch. The younger boy twisted his body in an attempt to latch onto a branch to prevent a fall, but Jason soon followed suit. He fell on top of Dick, who had landed on the ground with a sharp snap a second before.  
  
Jason’s head felt a bit woozy as he could hear a boy screaming in pain and a girl shouting from afar. He could hear his older brother crying out in pain and screeching for his father. Jason tried to blink his eyes to make them focus. Nothing became clear until he felt a rough pair of hands picked him up and hauled him into the owner’s side.  
  
Jason peered up to see the manor becoming bigger and bigger and to hear an older boy’s screams echoing from the inside of the door. He looked up to the owner of the hands that had hauled him up, his father. Bruce looked absolutely furious. His face was tomato red and fixed in a deep scowl. If humans could blow smoke through their ears, the firefighters would be pulling up to the manor at that moment.  
  
They stepped into the manor through the back door, where the kitchen had erupted into chaos. Dick was laid down across the large kitchen counter, screaming and crying his head off.  
  
Dick's entire face was pale and frankly, blue tinted, a big contrast from his tan complexion. He was sweating profusely and his lips were slightly parted, air being sucked in and blown out. His eyes were welled up with tears, rivers tracing his cheek and dripping on the marble table.  
  
“No, no, no, no!” Dick wailed as he held his arm that was bent at an odd angle. “Go away! Leave me alone!”  
  
Alfred simply had a hand on Dick’s forehead, wiping the sweat and tears away with a handkerchief, murmuring comforting words to the young boy. The boy shuddered and nodded as Alfred draped a lightweight blanket on the bottom of Dick’s body.  
  
Cass was running around the kitchen, collecting supplies and dumping them onto the ground next to Alfred. Alfred peered over and thanked her as he moved to Dick’s other side.  
  
“Daddy…” Dick whined when he spotted Bruce. He reached out for Bruce’s hand, who stroked Dick’s cheek lovingly and held onto his hand. Bruce dropped Jason softly and glared back and forth at the two boys.  
  
“You two… we will have a talk about this later.”  
  
Dick glared furiously at the younger boy as more tears cascaded down his cheeks.  
  
“Daddy,” he sniffles “I wish it was just me and Cass. I don’t want Jason anymore.”  
  
“Dick,” Bruce grounded out.  
  
“I hate him! I wish he would go away!”  
  
Jason glared back with an intense hatred, “I hate you too!”  
  
Jason sped away from the kitchen to get away from the screaming and crying and headed straight to the pantry. He closed the door behind him softly and began to process what had just happened.  
  
Dick was hurt… because of him. Jason began to cry, he sniffed and wiped his little hand across his eyes. He doesn’t love him anymore and it’s all Jason’s fault. Jason cried even harder, devastated by the sudden realization of what he had just done. Bruce was going to send him back to the bad place, because he liked Dick more and Jason just hurt Dick. The five year old began to cough as he choked on the sudden inhale of cold hair and he began to sob.  
  
Jason looked up as he swallowed the snot gathering in the back of his mouth and spotted a bag of pretzels on the top of the shelf. Tears bleared his eyes as he climbed up the shelf like a ladder and grabbed the pretzels.  
  
He ripped open the bag and began to eat the delicious, crumbly pretzels. The pretzels taste good, nice and salty. They made him think less about Dick hating him. His stomach felt fuller and his heart felt fuller as well.  
  
So Jason ate more and more and more. The pretzels began to taste like cardboard and his mouth began to dry. Jason didn’t feel like getting water, but he kept eating. Pretzels made him feel better, he didn’t have to think about Dick. The bag got lighter and lighter and Jason began to feel sick.  
  
But it made him feel good. Jason was bored of the pretzels so he looked for something sweet. He climbed back up the shelf and found a big bag of chocolate chips. He dug into the semisweet chocolate chips with his fist and began to stuff them in his stomach. It reminded him of Alfred’s chocolate chip cookies. The memory burned the edges of his eyes as he began to stuff himself even more. His heart felt so empty and food made him feel full.

  
  


Jason laid on the floor of the pantry, shuddering and coughing. It seemed to have been hours upon hours since he had snuck into the room. He could hear a distant car roar back onto the property, meaning that Bruce got home.  
  
Jason usually would stop whatever he was doing to run to the car and jump into Bruce’s arms. Not today, Jason felt his eyes droop. He stuffed himself with pretzels, cookies, ramen noodle and soup packets, chocolate chips, candies, spam, soy sauce and even more. Alfred had kept the pantry locked for a reason, to prevent the children from stuffing themselves with unhealthy junk food. He had forgotten to lock the room in the rush that was getting Dick to the hospital.  
  
He flickered his eyelids with difficulty as he heard his adoptive father call out for him and Cass. His head pounded and his stomach and ankles felt uncomfortable. Jason stretched out and let out a soft whine. He could hear footsteps quickly walking towards the pantry door and Jason quickly attempted to shove the wrappers and bottles back into the shelves.  
  
The door quickly opened and Jason heard a gasp and a sharp exhale.  
  
“Jason, get up.” His father, Jason thought to himself.  
  
Jason got up slowly, trying to keep a handle on the wave of nausea that washed over his body. He hung his head low, afraid of looking up at Bruce and to turn away from the light that was adding to his pounding headache.  
  
“Daddy,” Jason pleaded.  
  
Bruce quickly turned Jason around and smacked him on the bottom several times. Jason jumped up from the first smack, but Bruce held him still as he smacked him two more times.  
  
Jason wailed in betrayal and tried to bite Bruce, who expertly switched hands and lugged him back into the kitchen. Bruce dropped Jason down on the tile floor and got close to him at eye level.  
  
Jason blinked as he looked at his hands. They were completely covered in chocolate and red powder. His pants were not much better, crumbs powdered his overalls and his cheeks probably looked really dirty too.  
  
“Jason, do you know what you did wrong?” Bruce asked dangerously.  
  
Jason hung his head and bit his lip.  
  
“Jason, answer me. I’m very upset right now.”  
  
He wiped at his eyes, this wasn’t fair. He already knew that everyone hated him. He didn’t need to come out and say it.  
  
“I broke Dick’s arm?”  
  
Bruce grabbed Jason’s chin and forced him to look at him in the eyes. “You could’ve snapped Dick’s neck and that would’ve been really bad for him. Do you know why else I’m angry?”  
  
Jason looked down at his hands again. “I took food without asking?”  
  
Bruce took a slow inhale and closed his eyes. “What did I say would happen if you did that?”  
  
Jason whimpered, “That you would hit me?” He cried out and launched himself into Bruce’s arms. “Daddy! Please don’t, don’t do it please!”  
  
Bruce flipped Jason, pressing the child’s stomach onto his thigh. He lifted his hand and began to smack him repeatedly from his back to the bottom of his feet.  
  
Jason cried out ‘I hate you’ s and ‘Stop it’ s, but Bruce continued on for two more minutes. Jason choked on a sob and wiped his snot onto one of Bruce’s pant leg in revenge.  
  
“Daddy! I’ll be a good boy!”  
  
Suddenly, Jason opened his mouth and projectile vomited all over the kitchen. He suddenly blacked out and went limp on Bruce’s thigh.  
  
Bruce, stunned by the turn of events, quickly lifted Jason away from the mess and settled him down in another part of the room. His heart stopped, Jason was no longer conscious and had begun shaking and seizing.  
  
“Alfred,” Bruce tried to say, “ALFRED.”


	9. Hospital Visits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I'm so sorry for the delay. This has to be the hardest year in high school and I'm not doing so well. The updates are going to slow down A LOT and shorten a bunch as well. Just hang in there with me and I promise I'll try harder.

Bruce had to gently and carefully weave his way past the wires and machinery to get to the lump underneath the blanket. He peeled back the blanket meticulously from Jason’s face and stroked his cheek with the back of his hand. Jason had a raging fever that morning, his cheeks were bright red and he was crying all day and all night.  
  
Bruce remembered feeling horrified when he woke up to the sounds of nurses and doctors rushing around the room to make sure his boy was under surveillance. He remembered clearly how crummy he felt when he couldn’t possibly calm his child whenever he cried out in pain or distress or whenever he wouldn’t stop throwing up in the trash can. He remembered as his sleeplessness hit him in the back of the head like a school bus as he rocked Jason to sleep on the rocking chair in the corner of the hospital room (which he bought for the visit, obviously).  
  
Near acute kidney failure, they said. Bruce brushed the sweat off from the baby’s forehead. He tugged the tangled blankets surrounding his child off of the small body to adjust it into a more comfortable, freeing position. Jason whined and curled up into a tight ball as he squeezed his arms around his dog plushie. What was his name for it? Ace?  
  
If Bruce had been fifteen minutes late coming back from the hospital, Jason would be in a coma, possibly dead. He would have climbed to the top of the shelves to reach Alfred’s secret bag of curry and salt packets and devoured them all. The man sighed and began to rub gentle circles into Jason’s back.  
  
The sound of a door closing gently echoed out behind him and Bruce turned around. There was Dick, with red rimmed eyes, Rudolph’s nose and dried tear tracks down his cheeks. He sniffed a little.  
  
Bruce reached his arm out for his eldest, Dick shuffled into his embrace. Bruce swiped a kiss on the top of Dick’s head, while the boy made a small noise of protest, swatting at Bruce’s face. “Dad, stop…” Dick whined as he stuffed his face back into Bruce’s sweatshirt. They held each other for a little while before Dick made a move to stand up, slipping away from Bruce’s embrace.  
  
The child wiped at his eyes before furiously attempting to settle his face. “Is he going to be okay Dad?” He reached for Jason’s hand and clung onto it loosely.  
  
“Of course he is, kiddo,” Bruce murmured softly.  
  
Dick glared at the floor, “I shouldn’t have said that I hated him. It would’ve been the last time I’d said something to him if he-“ Dick stopped himself and bit his lower lip.  
  
“It’s okay Dick,” Bruce murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind Dick’s ear, “You didn’t know.”  
  
Dick sniffed a little. “I want to hug him, when is Jason going to be better?”  
  
Bruce kissed the top of his eldest’s knuckles, “I’m not sure when, Dickie. All I know is that when he does, we need to take care of him.”  
  
Bruce noticed his son tensing up, becoming stiff in his posture and hold.  
  
“I’m not a good brother.”  
  
Dick turned to Jason’s sleeping figure. “I’m sorry Jay, wake up soon, I miss you.”  
  
His father pulled him back into his arms. Bruce reached out to the nightstand to retrieve a tissue from the tissue box. He cupped Dick’s jaw towards him and pressed the white, soft tissue against his son’s lip.  
  
“Your lip’s bleeding again, you have to take better care of yourself,” Bruce scolded, gently.  
  
Dick rolled his eyes. “Chapstick and Vaseline are swo, swo gwoss,” he said as his lip stuck out  
  
“Trust me your lip will thank you no matter how gross chapsticks and Vaseline are.”  
  
Dick turned slightly, allowing Bruce to chase his tissue after his lip. He stroked Jason’s bare leg and held onto his ankle.  
  
“He’s going to hate me forever,” Dick moaned.  
  
Bruce chuckles, “Jason loves you, he’ll forgive you.”  
  
Dick sighed (a habit he definitely learned from Bruce) and tucked himself into Bruce’s side with a bit of maneuvering.  
  
Bruce lightly jostled Dick with his arm, “Where’s Cass?”  
  
Dick rolled over next to Bruce and on to the hospital bed, stretching his arms out wide. “Cass is cooking with Alfie.”  
  
“What’re they making for dinner?”  
  
The kid grinned wide enough to split his cheeks, “They’re making ratatouille and a fresh loaf of bread.”  
  
“Your favorite huh?”  
  
“The zucchini is so good!”  
  
Lately eating ratatouille was the only way to get Dick to eat vegetables. The dish was filling and heavy and didn’t have that weird taste that all kids hated in vegetables. Alfred had been so excited when he found out that he could fit veggies into Dick as long as he could hide the taste. Bruce grabbed a little chocolate muffin that sat next to the tissue box on the side table.  
  
“Alfred says to eat this if you hadn’t eaten lunch yet.”  
  
Dick eagerly grabbed it and shoved the crusty top into his mouth. “Yum! Alfred is the best.” Bruce smiled to himself, chocolate avocado muffins, a classic way to sneak nutrients into treats.  
  
A soft whine rang out from behind. Bruce turned over to start adjusting the pillows and blankets in a more comfortable position for Jason. Little hands and feet slowly shuffle on the sheets and stick out of the little mound. Soft cries begin to spill out of the figure.  
  
“It’s okay bud I’m here.” Bruce lifted Jason and pressed him close to his chest. The toddler shuddered and coughed wetly with streams of tears running down his face.  
  
“Hurt… I’m hot.”  
  
“I know it hurts, baby. Hang in there okay?”  
  
Jason sobbed weakly and clung onto Bruce’s shirt. “I want to go home.”  
  
His heart ripped out of his chest as he listened to Jason’s soft cries of pain. Bruce kissed his younger’s fingertips and rubbed his thumb against every single tiny finger on Jason’s hand.  
  
“It’s okay, Jay.”  
  
Bruce looked up to see Dick stroking Jason’s hair softly.  
  
“We’ll go home soon.”  
  
Jason peered at Dick in curious awe as if he was almost in a trance. He grabbed onto Dick’s other hand and smiled at him.  
  
“Alfie is making ratatouille tonight, I know how much you like it.”  
  
His younger son spoke up, “That’s your favorite, chili dogs are my favorite.”  
  
Dick patted the side of Jason’s face, “I’ll ask Alfred to make chili dogs when you go home.”  
  
Jason licked his lips and Bruce chuckled.  
  
“Why don’t you get some water for Jason, Dick?”  
  
Dick nodded and bounced on the tips of his feet. He ran towards the door, his little jacket and boots making little squeaking sounds, before he paused and ran back towards Bruce.  
  
He bent down and kissed Jason on the forehead. Dick made a face and wiped at his lips.  
  
“Ugh, salty.”  
  
He ran back out the door and Bruce gave Jason a knowing look. Jason’s face was of utter adorable surprise and he smiled once again.

  



	10. Announcement:

Hi everyone! I just wanted to make an announcement: I'm officially putting this work up for adoption. As much as I would love to keep working on it and watching it grow, I have to dedicate my time to getting into a good college and balancing school and art. I'll keep uploading chapters (progressively updates will take longer and chapters will become shorter) until someone comments/messages me saying that they wish to adopt my work. I would really love to see it grow, even if I don't have a hand in finishing this fic! I really don't want to disappoint those who have been keeping up with the story and I actually have hope in this fic. Please, please adopt this story and bring it to the finishing line for me! Thank you so much, I love all of you who have stayed so far! 

If you want to follow my art instagram account to DM me for ideas for fics or just checking out my art in general (I do post the occasional Batfam fanart), follow me @professorqueens! Thank you for staying, I love you so much <3\. Lots of love, PhoJoy


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